


Lotus

by HysteriaLevi



Category: Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-04-16 03:12:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 63,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14155404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HysteriaLevi/pseuds/HysteriaLevi
Summary: TAKES PLACE DURING SEASON 2, EPISODE 5, VILLAIN ROUTEAfter infecting everyone at Wayne Enterprises with the Lotus virus, John and Harley finally find the survivor they've been searching for...only to discover that it's none other than Bruce Wayne himself. Now, among all the chaos already being caused by "Joker," the Agency and the GCPD must work together to put down Bruce as he slowly descends into madness and tears Gotham apart, following the Riddler's footsteps on a path that only leads to death.





	1. Infected

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a Batjokes fanfic with multiple chapters, so just bear with me lol. I’m kind of testing the waters right now, but I hope you guys like the story and please, feel free to send feedback anytime. Enjoy! 
> 
> P.S. Don't worry, I haven't stopped my Cobblebats fanfic. I'm still working on that as well. I just thought it'd be good to give my readers more variety.

From Waller’s POV

CITY HALL

“Secure the perimeter!” I ordered, sending agents scrambling all over the place. “Lethal force is authorized. Do whatever it takes to find the mayor. We CANNOT let that maniac kill him! Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“Agent Fox,” I called out, marching towards her, “any updates on Wayne?”

She tapped her tablet a few times before responding, concern plastered all over her face. “My drones have scanned the building top to bottom, and it looks like Wayne’s trapped the mayor in his own office. He’s injured him pretty badly, but he hasn’t tried to kill him yet. It’s almost like he’s...waiting for something.”

I rubbed my chin in thought, the gears turning my head. “Why wouldn’t Wayne just shoot him? If he really wanted to kill the mayor, he would’ve done it already. No...this must be a trap. He wants our attention. He wanted the Agency to come here. These theatrics are nothing but bait. Well, we’ll worry about that later. Right now, our top priority is saving the Mayor. Understood?”

Tiffany gave me a firm nod. “Understood.”

“Good. Then let’s get to work.”

Tiffany let out a disappointed sigh, her head sinking with sorrow. I paused for a minute.

“Everything all right, agent?” I checked.

She frowned. “It’s just...I grew up with Bruce. He was always like family to me, and to my dad. I know he’s been mixed up with some shady people in the past, but never in a million years did I think he’d become like...this.” 

She gazed up at the night sky in a helpless manner, her shoulders drooping despondently. “God, what did that virus do to him...? What did we do to him? We should’ve just ended his misery when we had the chance. Bruce might not’ve been a saint, but he definitely didn’t deserve this.”

I was silent in response, earning an apology from Tiffany.

“I’m sorry, Director. I know I have to set my personal feelings aside. I can’t let them hinder my judgement when dealing with Bruce, no matter how close we used to be. I just wish it didn’t have to end like this.”

I folded my hands behind my back, softening the tone of my voice. “I understand, Tiffany. I don’t think there’s a single soul in Gotham who hasn’t been touched by Bruce somehow. It’s heartbreaking for all of us to witness what he’s become, friend or foe. Let’s just hope we’re able to put a stop to this madness before it’s too late. Gotham’s already on the brink of war with the Joker running about, and this pandemonium with Wayne certainly isn’t helping. It’s the Agency’s duty to act. Fast.”

“I’m ready when you’re ready.” Tiffany said, regaining composure.

“That’s what I like to hear, agent.”

Before we could continue with our plan any further however, the distant sound of an explosion suddenly erupted from the top of City Hall, causing every electronic within a five-block radius to shut down immediately. Streetlamps, billboards, indoor lights, pylons, all of it -- just dark. We were stuck in pitch blackness.

“What the hell just happened?” I blurted out, my voice echoing eerily. I quickly took out my pistol, checking its condition. The lights were red.

“Dammit,” I cursed, holstering the useless weapon. “That must’ve been an EMP blast. I see Wayne hasn’t given up on his old tactics. We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

“Wait,” Tiffany said, showing me her tablet, “my devices have EMP shielding. They were able to survive the blast. I can still keep an eye on him while the other agents fetch the mayor.”

A sense of relief washed over me. “Good thinking. Things will be a hell of a lot harder without our tech, but at least we can monitor Wayne.”

Just as we were about to calm down a bit, the screen on Tiffany’s tablet began to glitch suddenly, bringing us back into panic mode as a broken, deformed voice came through the speaker. It sounded like Bruce. He must’ve been hacking her tech from City Hall.

“--Just as you always do.” He fired back, his tone low and stoic. “I figured the Agency would be experts at this by now. All you did for an entire week was monitor me. Watching, and waiting. Standing idly by as I rotted away...don’t deny that you relished it.”

I glared at the screen. “What do you want, Wayne?”

“What do I want?” He repeated. “I’m surprised you ask. You didn’t seem to care back when I was suffering in your secret lab -- when all I wanted was a little mercy...”

A dark chuckle escaped Wayne’s lips. 

“But now that I’ve stoked the city’s fire with its own fuel, and sent your own organization crumbling around you...now you care. Because you’re afraid. Because you know what kind of a monster you’ve created, and you know what I’m capable of. Isn’t that right...Director?”

“Enough, Bruce,” I said firmly. “It’s time we settled this, but I want the mayor first. He’s not a part of this. Leave him out of it.”

Bruce laughed, though not in an amusing manner. “Even now, she still makes demands...when I’ve clearly got the upper hand. You’ll have to learn someday, Waller, that barking orders isn’t enough to push through life. Though, it can certainly push some people.” 

Bruce sighed in frustration. “Fine. You want your beloved mayor so much?” He was quiet for a second, probably setting something up.

“...then you can have him.”

Splitting the darkness, the upper floors of City Hall were illuminated with a single spotlight as one of the windows slid open from the inside, revealing Wayne himself. It was hard to see what he was doing from this distance, but it appeared as if he was hauling something quite heavy around. 

For a moment, I had no idea what that “something” could’ve been, but the minute Wayne hurled it over the window’s edge, and it caught on the rope holding it, I immediately felt my stomach churn. A unanimous gasp could be heard from the other agents, and everyone began murmuring as we tried to process what we were looking at.

Slowly turning to me with a horrified look and all the color drained from her face, Tiffany brought a hand over her mouth, nearly fainting on the spot.

She shook her head in disbelief. 

“Oh...oh, god.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Bruce’s POV

ONE WEEK AGO - WAYNE ENTERPRISES

Pain. Heat. Anger.

All of these things rushed through my body as I struggled to open my eyes, my vision doubled and blurry. My hearing was muffled except for a sharp ringing noise, and the room around me seemed to pulse in sync with the throbbing ache piercing my skull. It must’ve been from Harley’s hammer. 

I rubbed the side of my head, wincing at the touch. Goddamn. She really hit me hard. The woman herself however, was nowhere to be seen right now...and neither was her partner, “Joker.” I guessed they fled after knocking me out, leaving nothing but a trail of death behind them. 

Barely lifting my head, I saw the aftermath of John’s attack scattered all over the floor, making me want to gag. Along with the blood splatters and vomit staining the carpet, the room was also littered with fresh corpses -- both from mine and Joker’s side. They were all bleeding from the eyes, nose, and mouth, and a permanent expression of agony was stuck on their faces. It made my insides boil.

I could hardly believe it. Every. Single. One of my colleagues -- even Regina...was dead. Just like that. And for what? To get a point across? 

I felt a certain rage bubbling inside me -- the same one from when I first learned of my father’s criminal history. Not only was I angry, but I also felt betrayed. After all the things I gave him, after everything we went through...and this was how John repaid me? If I didn’t have a code against killing, I would’ve strangled the clown myself.

...But deep down, I knew I could never truly harm John. As much as I despised to admit it...I was in love with that freak-show. Something about John just...drew me to him. Like a moth to a flame. He was everything I ever wanted in person, but he was also everything I stood against. And to see him running around with someone else, to know that he did all of this purely because he hated me...to know this was my fault -- it made me feel helpless. 

How was I supposed to destroy something I helped build? Or hate something I loved? I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this lost, and to be honest, I just wanted to give up. I wanted to walk away from this city and never look back, but I knew I couldn’t. Not with Gotham counting on Batman. It needed him now more than ever, and I owed it to everyone who had died so far to save this city. Especially Lucius.

Pushing myself up from the table, my body turned out to be much weaker than I anticipated, causing me to collapse right onto the floor with a heavy thud. The fall certainly didn’t help with my headache or the ringing in my ears, but as soon as I made impact, I could hear a pair of frantic footsteps heading in my direction. It looked like a couple of agents, and both of them were protected with gas masks.

“Oh my god...!” one of them exclaimed. I recognized her voice. It was Avesta. 

“Blake,” she said, “he’s...he’s alive! Go find Director Waller! We need to get him out of here immediately!”

“Right. I’m on my way.” He bolted out of the board room in a heartbeat, leaving me alone with Iman as she gently secured her arms around me and lifted me into a sitting position. I groaned in pain.

“It’s okay, Bruce,” she reassured, looking into my eyes compassionately. “It’s okay. Waller’s here. We’ll get you somewhere safe. I promise. You’re going to be all right.”

Avesta cursed in a language I didn’t understand, muttering to herself. 

“...I thought you were dead. How are you alive...? Anyone touched by the Lotus virus is instantly killed. Could it be that you’re...? No...it must be the gas mask. But wait...”

She leaned forward, observing the mask John gave me.

“There’s a crack in the glass. It couldn’t have saved you. So what did?”

I took a breath, my lungs burning as I tried to speak. 

“What...” I coughed, “what are you...talking about...? What’s going on...?”

Avesta hesitated for a second and glanced around the room as if she’d find an answer hiding somewhere, unsure of how to break the news.

“Bruce,” she put a hand on my shoulder, barely able to make eye contact with me, “...I-I don’t know how to say this, and I don’t mean to frighten you, but...you’ve...you’ve been infected with the Lotus virus.”

My heart stopped. 

Lotus? As in the one Riddler and Freeze contracted? Shit.

I gulped out of fear, my chest beginning to feel tight as the news finally sunk in.

Oh, shit. No, no, no, NO. That couldn’t be right. Everyone else died the minute the virus was released. Why didn’t the same thing happen to me? I couldn’t be infected. It had to be from when Harley hit me. Surely, that was the reason why I was so weak. I wasn’t infected with...with Lotus...right? They had to be wrong. They had to be. Oh, god. What was I going to do? What was I going to tell Alfred?

“Bruce?” Avesta said, interrupting my thoughts. “...are you okay?”

I snapped back to reality and shook my head, looking at her desperately.

“Iman...please, you have to help me.”

She scooted closer. “Don’t worry, Bruce. That’s what we’re here for.”

“No...” I grit my teeth, the pain increasing with every second, “that’s not what I meant. I mean...you have to...” I trailed off for a moment, wondering if I should even ask this, “...you have to...kill me.”

Avesta almost seemed disgusted at the request. “What?” She backed away slightly. “No! No way, Bruce. I’m not going to do that.”

I persisted. “Look at me. I’m already a corpse, Iman. With the Lotus virus inside me, I’ll either end up dead...or insane. I don’t want to lose my mind. Please, just...just shoot me before that happens. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

The agent sighed morosely, still refusing to do what I asked.

“I’m sorry Bruce. I can’t. I understand you’re afraid, but the Agency needs you alive. The more we learn about this virus, the higher our chances are of curing you -- completely. I’m just curious about how on Earth you survived in the first place.”

“We’ll figure all that out later,” Waller dismissed as she marched into the room. “For now though, we just need to focus on getting Wayne to the lab. He may be alive, but he’s in a critical condition. And it’ll only worsen if he stays here. Not to mention it’s a risk to us as well.”

Avesta nodded, helping me to my feet. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good, then let’s get a move on. We have no time to waste.”

Waller brought her attention to the other agents, ordering them around and giving commands whilst Avesta lugged me away from the grotesque scene, both of us still shocked at what’s unfolded. 

“I want bio-scans on Wayne as soon as possible,” Waller shouted behind us. “Learn everything you can about the virus, and do NOT let him leave his cell once he’s locked in. We don’t know how fast this virus can spread, and I certainly don’t want to find out.”

I turned to Avesta, croaking out a few words with what little energy I had left.

“...you’re...putting me...in a cell...?”

She gave me an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, Bruce. It’s the only way we can contain the virus.”

I still wasn’t entirely sure about the idea.

“But the city needs me,” I protested, coughing faintly, “...it needs...B-batman...”

Avesta gestured to me. “Look at yourself, Bruce. You can barely walk, and Batman’s no use to the city if he can’t fight. You need to rest.”

“...but...but...I...”

Before I could even talk anymore, the edges my vision suddenly began to darken once again and the world felt like it had fallen from underneath my feet, swirling around me in a sickly manner. I started to slip from Iman’s grasp.

“Bruce...?” Avesta’s voice bounced off the walls of my head, muffling more and more.

I crashed onto the floor and went limp, a dozen agents instantly clamoring over to me as my brain shut down and everything went black. What was going on? Was I...was I dying? Was the virus finally taking its toll? Had my wish been granted? 

I closed my eyes and willingly let the virus’s cold clutch steal me away from consciousness, my entire body going numb as I fell into Limbo. Despite all the panic that was happening around me, I somehow remained calm, and even welcomed this sensation that I mistook as death, greeting it with open arms. 

All my fear, hatred, rage, love, everything...it was just...gone. I felt lifeless, and yet, I had never been more alive. It was as if my soul had floated away from my body and was now watching from afar, waiting to see what I’d do next before meeting it on the other side. 

I didn’t know what the Agency had planned for me, or how I was going to be affected by this virus, but there was one thing I knew for sure. No matter what happened in the future, or how much torment I would have to endure, Gotham was never going to be the same again. And neither was I.


	2. Isolation

From Bruce’s POV

THE LAB

Gasping for air, I finally woke up as my eyes sprung open and I found myself lying in what looked like to be a hospital, the pain from before suddenly gone. Parts of my body were still sore, and I doubted I’d be fighting anytime soon, but I was at least able to sit up on my own without plunging to the floor like last time. 

What the hell just happened? Where was Avesta? And Waller? Everyone at Wayne Enterprises...were they all really dead? Or was that just some crazy dream I had as a result of the head wound I suffered? 

God...I really hoped this was a dream.

Getting infected by Lotus, watching my closest friend become the Joker, seeing all my friends massacred around me...there was no way any of this could be real life. Even for Gotham, this was too much. This city was crazy, sure, but even “crazy” had its norms.

A peculiar thought struck my mind. 

What if...what if I actually did die back at Wayne Enterprises, and this was just what Hell looked like? What if Hell was built around your biggest fears, and I was going through that notorious part of death where your life flashed before your eyes?

This had to be in my head, right? It had to be. Where else would something like this even be possible? I couldn’t believe any of it. 

Despite all my efforts to deny it though, I knew this was reality. After all, this wasn’t the first time I’d been forced to fight through a tragedy, and I certainly doubted it’d be the last. I just hoped I had the strength to survive this battle. Death was one of the few luxuries I couldn’t afford right now, and Batman had been absent from the streets for long enough. It was time I got back out there.

Tearing myself away from my torturous paranoia, I slid an exhausted hand down my face and observed my surroundings, trying to get a sense of where I was. 

It looked like I had been locked in some kind of lab, but it clearly wasn’t just any lab. Perhaps it was the cell Waller mentioned before. All of it was completely white, and it was actually a rather tight squeeze; only big enough to fit in some equipment, a bed, and a few more people -- probably doctors and scientists. 

Gazing off to the side, I noticed there was a wide window on one of the walls along with a speaker placed right next to it. And looking through the glass, I could see a “Restricted Area” sign hanging from the wall, not too far away from where my cell was. Was I really that dangerous? People couldn’t even be in the same room as me without protection? What the hell was this virus doing to me? What was I doing to others?

Looking down at my half-bare body, I suddenly noticed that there were multiple tubes and needles sticking out of me, along with a cord connecting me to a heart monitor and a pair of bandages wrapped around my elbows. Well, that explained the soreness I was feeling. 

So far, I felt regular enough, and nothing seemed significantly abnormal, but part of me only wondered how long that would last. I mean, both Riddler and Freeze were extremely formidable men, and it didn’t even take a day for Lotus to bring them to their knees. So how on Earth was I still alive? Could it have been possible that I was one of the two survivors?

Well, normally, that would’ve been great news to hear with any other virus, but in Lotus’s case, getting to keep your life meant sacrificing your sanity. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure which was more valuable at this point.

Before I could think on the matter any further however, a female voice suddenly came through the speaker and interrupted me, grabbing my attention and bouncing off the cell’s walls. I turned to face the window out of curiosity, spotting none other than Tiffany herself greeting me from the other side. 

“Bruce,” she said, surprisingly relaxed. “You’re awake.”

I sat up all the way, supporting myself on an elbow.

“And confused,” I replied. “Where am I? What is this place? Where’s Waller?”

“Slow down, Bruce.” Tiffany approached the window. “There’s no need to worry. Well, there might be a few, but you’re certainly safer than you were two days ago.”

My eyes widened. “I’ve been unconscious for two days?”

“A miracle, considering most people never wake up. Tell me, what do you remember?”

I backtracked through my memories, trying to fill in the gaps and sharpen the parts that were blurry. Some of it was as clear as day, and I could recall nearly every single detail, but the rest was just one, fuzzy mush. It was like adjusting a camera that would never focus.

“I...I remember running into John and Harley at Wayne Enterprises. Something brought me there, but I don’t know what. Something involving Regina.”

Tiffany’s gaze fell to the floor in sorrow, her expression heavy with regret. 

“...and...do you remember what happened to Regina?”

A familiar rage sparked inside me at the thought, causing me to clench my fist.

“All too well,” I whispered, my tone almost feral. “The Lotus virus killed everyone in that board room within seconds. Regina...she was the last to die.”

I let out a grief-stricken sigh, staring at the white blankness in front of me as the filthy scene played out in my head.

“Regina,” I said, my throat tightening with tears, “...she didn’t even know what was happening when the bomb first detonated. No one did. They all just sat there like deer in headlights, paralyzed, as the virus suffocated them and John laughed, broadcasting their deaths...like it was some sort of show.”

I brought a hand to my forehead, rubbing the bridge of my nose out of stress. 

“...she couldn’t even speak by the end of it. There was blood all over her face. In her eyes, her mouth, streaming from her nose...you could barely recognize her anymore. And the scream that came out of her when Harley finished her off...it didn’t even sound human. It was like something out of a nightmare.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Regina was like a second mother to me. She may not have been as close as Alfred, but I definitely couldn’t have handled the pressure of being CEO without her support. She didn’t deserve to die like this. None of them did.”

A breathy, maniacal chuckle escaped me. “...But Bruce Wayne, no. The billionaire playboy was safe and sound as always. Protected by those trying to kill him, no less. All because the Joker wanted him to watch. All because the Joker wanted revenge.” 

I scoffed. “...Only in Gotham does being in someone’s crosshairs keep you alive. Go figure. Death isn’t satisfying enough for these animals. They want you to suffer first. They want you to know why they did it. Like sending someone a message...by carving it into their flesh.”

Gritting my teeth, I felt my anger taking hold of me. “That cackling maniac...I’ll carve his smile right into his goddamn face!” I slammed a fist down, making Tiffany jump slightly. “...We’ll see who’s laughing then.”

After a long period of silence, I blinked a few times and snapped out of my ramblings, suddenly remembering that Tiffany was still standing outside. I turned to her, only to find a face of concern staring back at me. I sheepishly cleared my throat, unsure of what to say.

“...erm, sorry, Tiffany,” I apologized. “I...I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

She had obviously been unsettled by my random outburst, but shook it off regardless. “N-no worries. You’ve been through a lot these past few days. Makes sense that you’d need to vent a bit.”

I wasn’t so sure, but changed the subject anyways. “Right. Hey, Tiffany, has Alfred been here yet? Or, god forbid, John?”

Tiffany crossed her arms. “That’s...what I came to talk to you about, actually. Look, I don’t know how to say this -- and I’m sorry Alfred couldn’t deliver the news himself -- but...he’s gone, Bruce. Alfred’s gone.”

I shot her a puzzled look. “Gone? What do you mean ‘gone?”

“Maybe I should just start from the beginning.” Tiffany took a breath, gathering her thoughts. “Listen, after the Agency rescued you from Joker’s attack at Wayne Enterprises and brought you here, they sent me to inform Alfred that you’d been infected with Lotus. He...didn’t take it well, to say the least.”

“Still doesn’t explain why he’s gone.” I said.

Tiffany pulled something out of her pocket, but it was too low for me to see. 

“Alfred started going on about how he was seeing more and more of your father grow in you,” she explained. “He didn’t clarify how -- just that you were both driven by this obsession for control. Maybe not in the same way, but you’ve certainly ended up in the same place, according to him. Sitting right on death’s doorstep with a little bow, waiting for it to greet you.”

I was quiet, so Tiffany carried on.

“Alfred said he couldn’t bury you too. That he couldn’t watch you suffer as this virus took you away. Too much stuff was already going on, and I guess this news piled on top of all that just...overwhelmed him. So, he decided to pack his bags...and leave. I’m sorry, Bruce. I tried to talk him out of it. I really did. I know how much he means to you.”

I slowly turned away from Tiffany and stared aimlessly at the wall, utterly speechless and at a loss for words.

She had to be joking, right? How could Alfred be...gone? He stayed by my side for over twenty years, never wavering in that time. Did Lady Arkham’s kidnapping finally break him? ...Or was it me? 

I didn’t know what to make of this. I didn’t even know where to start. It was just more proof that this had to be in my head...that all of this was a dream, and I couldn’t wake up. Oh god, what more could go wrong?

“Bruce?” Tiffany asked. “Are you okay?”

I tried to hide how deeply this news truly cut me and put on my best charade, but I could tell just from Tiffany’s voice that it wasn’t working. 

“Yeah,” I lied. “I’m just a little shocked. Alfred was always so loyal to my family. To me. I never imagined that, one day, he’d just...up and leave. What am I supposed to do now without him?”

“Well, so far,” a third person joined the conversation, “you’ve been doing a damn fine job.”

Coming into view, I saw Waller walk up next to Tiffany, her fierce, brown eyes closely examining over me through her glasses. 

“Huh, would you look at that,” Waller remarked, seeming pleased. “Only forty-eight hours, and you’re already close to recovering completely...minus those blisters on your face, of course.”

I brought a hand up to my cheek, suddenly realizing how rough the skin on the right side was. When did that get there?

“Don’t worry,” she said with a chuckle, noticing the gesture. “They’re not that bad. You might receive some scarring from them, but I think that’s preferable to death, don’t you? Still though, it’s incredible how quickly you’ve bounced back from Lotus’s grasp. Not even Riddler was able to combat it so easily, and that man packed a punch. You truly are something special...aren’t you, Wayne?”

I couldn’t help but feel slightly agitated at how Waller was speaking to me. Here I was, quite literally in a life-or-death situation immediately after witnessing the murder of my colleagues, and she was looking at me like a damn science project. Was she even aware of what Lotus did to its survivors? Or had no one told her yet? I calmed myself down, restraining my annoyance.

“Give us a moment, Fox?” Waller requested, causing Tiffany to take one last look at whatever was in her hand before putting it away and sulking out of sight. The Director averted her focus to me, never breaking eye contact. I could tell there was something on her mind as she prowled towards the window. I didn’t like where this was going.

Waller cleared her throat. “...I know you asked Agent Avesta to...‘take care’ of you, ” she said, getting straight to the point. “I understand you might believe death is the only logical solution here, but the Agency needs you breathing. Any information you’re able to give us on Lotus could save lives, Bruce. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Batman’s clearly unavailable at the moment, so why not help Gotham out from the other side of the line for a while?”

I was confused. “But why? You had Riddler’s body and conducted loads of research on him. Don’t you already have the info you need?”

“We barely scraped the surface with Riddler,” Waller countered. “Not only was he dead, it also wasn’t very long until his body became useless to us. There’s still halls of knowledge that we don’t know about Lotus, and you’re our best chance at discovering those unknowns. You’re also alive, so there’s a bonus.”

I leaned forward as much as I could without straining any of the tubes, nearly face-to-face with the window’s glass.

“Waller, you don’t understand. Even if I do survive this virus, it’ll still be a disaster for you, and for me. Lotus completely decimates your brain chemistry, and causes you to go insane. How do you think Riddler ended up the way he did? It was the virus, and it’s going to happen to me too. You’ll have a madman living in your lab!”

The Director remained silent at that and simply glared at me, bringing me to a conclusion I should’ve realized days ago.

“...you know,” I whispered, “don’t you?”

Waller was unswayed. “We’re going to need all the help we can get in this war, Bruce. And in war, sacrifices are often made, no matter how much we may dislike it. I’m sorry -- I truly am -- but that’s how things are.”

My head drooped beneath my shoulders. “Please, Waller,” I said, almost begging her, “don’t...do this. Just let me die in peace. I have nothing left to lose anyhow.”

She refused. “Perhaps, but the Agency can’t afford losing you.”

Waller began distancing herself from the window, her hands folded behind her back as she turned to two other people, ignoring me entirely. The people were both dressed in full hazmat suits, and one of them steered a cart equipped with medical tools. I felt the pace of my heart picking up, suspicious at what they were planning on doing.

“He’s all yours,” she told them. “Be careful with him. Wayne is the most valuable thing we have in this lab right now. We cannot botch this.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Good. Then get to work.”

The doctors opened the airlock leading to my cell, activating a pair of rotating warning lights as the Director wandered off, leaving me alone.

“...Waller!” I called out, but she gave me no response. “Waller!” I tried again. Nothing. I fell back onto the bed in defeat. 

How could she do this? I thought to myself, bewildered. I understood that there was always a cost in war, but I helped Waller. I was her key into the Pact, into SANCTUS -- into John. The Agency would’ve been lost without my efforts. How could she so willingly throw me to the wolves, after everything I’ve done, and with barely any hesitation too -- if any?

Things just got worse and worse. Regina was dead, John hated me, Alfred left me behind as if I was nothing, and now, I was Waller’s personal lab rat, unable to do anything except await my descent into madness. Everyone had abandoned me. 

I wanted to rip these tubes right out of me and go straight after Waller, but with the pair of doctors towering over me and their scalpels about to break my skin, I felt less than powerless. I couldn’t see either of their faces with the bright light they had positioned over me -- and the fact that my vision was still a little blurred didn’t help -- but I could see the syringe one of them was preparing. I held up a protective hand.

“Wait--”

I barely had a second to prepare before they were jamming the needle into my flesh, causing the room to suddenly grow dark around me as the drug settled in, and my eyelids started feeling heavy.

“...what...” I mumbled incoherently, drifting away, “...what r’you...d-doing to...m...”

“...Easy,” one of the doctors said, cutting me off as the world faded into pure blackness. He adjusted what felt like restraints around my wrists and ankles, tightening them to the point where I couldn’t move. I saw the scalpel hovering dangerously close above my face. 

“...Just sleep.”


	3. The Light

From John’s POV

THE FUNHOUSE - ONE DAY LATER

“I’ll always have your back, John,” I mimicked in my lowest voice possible. “I promise! You can trust me -- Bruce Wayne. You know, the guy who betrayed you on the bridge when you needed me most and turned out to be an undercover agent? Yeah, nothing shady about me whatsoever! It’s not like every word I say is a complete lie or anything! I’ll be your best buddy forever! Pinky swear!”

Willy peered at me from a nearby table, interrupting his game of cards with Frank as he eyeballed the doll.

“How long are you gonna play with that thing?” He whined. “It don’t even look like the man that much. It’s also kinda creepy.”

“Shut up!” I exclaimed back at him, pointing a finger. “Brucie and I are having a very important conversation at the moment, and you are not invited. Not to mention it’s rude to call him creepy. Then again, it’s also rude to cut fabric from someone’s suit behind their back just to make a doll of them, but I’m his friend! There’s an understanding between us, you got that?”

Frank jumped in. “His friend? I thought we were trying to kill Bruce.”

“Not kill,” I specified. “At least, not yet. Just...beat to a pulp. If that’s even possible. Besides, you’re telling me you’ve never wanted to kill any of your friends before?”

Frank flicked his eyes around the room awkwardly, unsure of what to say. “Um...not really, no.”

I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “Then you’re not truly friends.”

I turned to the doll again, tidying up its yarn hair. “Sorry about that, buddy. Tsk, people can be so inconsiderate sometimes. It’s like no one has manners these days. I think it’s something in the water. Gotham’s always had a weird smell to it. Anyways -- where were we?”

Before I could continue, a woman’s voice called out to me in a sing-song tone. “Yoohoo! Puddin!” 

I rolled my eyes at the second interruption, letting out a breath.

“Can’t a man and his arch-nemesis just have a chat in peace?”

Harley walked up to me, crossing her arms in annoyance. “Well, if ya love him so much, then why don’t cha go talk to the real Bruce? We’ve been sitting here for ages. I’m getting bored, sweetie. I want some action. And more importantly, I wanna find that survivor.”

I pouted, flopping the doll onto the table’s surface out of frustration. “I don’t know where he is though! No one’s seen him for the past three days! And he’s definitely not at Wayne Enterprises. It’s not like him to just...hide when there’s so much crime running rampant. I wonder if he’s okay...”

I gasped, slapping a hand over my mouth as a worrying thought struck my mind. 

“Oh no--” I blurted out, “what if we accidentally killed him with the bomb?”

Harley glared at me. “What about it? Why does it matter? Good riddance, I say.”

“Erm -- right!” I quickly covered, clearing my throat. “I just...I just wanted to play with him a bit more, y’know? No fun in winning by default.”

Harley’s glare didn’t disappear, but she let the subject go.

Pushing myself away from the table, I stood up and held a finger in the air as an idea popped in my mind.

“I know! I’ll check if he’s home -- pay a visit at that fancy manor of his. I’ve actually never been inside. It’ll be interesting to see.”

Harley took my seat, resting her feet on top of the table and kicking the doll aside. “What, you think Bruce will just let ya in?”

I prepared my gadgets, including the Batarang Bruce gave me a while ago as I felt my heart sink at the sight, attaching them all to my belt. 

“Don't you worry about me, babe,” I assured, winking confidently as I headed out to my car. “He'll never know I was there. I’ll be as quiet as church mice.”

~~~~~~~~~~

WAYNE MANOR

Pulling up to the colossal, gloomy manor and parking in the spacious driveway, I instantly hopped out and made a beeline for the front porch, admittedly eager to see my ex-friend for some reason. 

Despite our past arguments and all the conflict that was currently going on between us, I couldn’t help but kind of...miss Bruce. He had been a part of my life for so long that, it just felt weird to have him suddenly drop out. I wondered if he was ignoring me on purpose. Trying to act like I meant nothing to him. Perhaps he thought that would push me away? Or maybe he thought I would just get bored of chasing him eventually.

Well, he was terribly mistaken. As much as I cared about Bruce, someone had to pay for his betrayal on the bridge. We used to be in the same stitch -- best buddies for life -- but now, he had gone and torn us apart. I wasn’t going to let him get away with that. Not even justice was above being sentenced, and it was high time he learned that.

Peeking in through the tall, luxurious windows, I didn’t see any sign of Bruce -- or of anyone else for that matter -- and his butler, Alfred, had made himself scarce. The inside was actually rather dark, and it looked like no one had been home for days. It almost looked...abandoned. 

I was starting to get anxious. Where was he? Was he even still in Gotham? Or did he find a way to escape? I decided to investigate the area for clues.

Using the Phalanx Key we stole from Bruce’s vault, I unlocked the front doors and subtly slipped inside, quietly shutting the entrance behind me as a gust of wind rushed through. The temperature seemed to drop by ten degrees as soon as I walked in, and this unsettling feeling of loneliness sat heavily in the air. It reminded me of the subway station, and I hated it.

Aimlessly wandering around the manor for a while, I gazed upwards and admired the eloquent designs on the ceiling along with the number of chandeliers dangling around, my mouth hanging open in awe. The furniture alone in this place could’ve bought a second manor, and the building itself just screamed “Gotham royalty.” I wondered if anyone ever helped Bruce “fill up” the space. After all, the women in this city seemed to adore the billionaire playboy, and it honestly surprised me that Bruce had never been married. The guy had to love someone.

Then again, they could’ve been dead or something. It seemed like most of his friends were.

Accidentally stepping on a remote that had been sitting on the floor, I jumped as a large TV suddenly flashed on, the news rambling on about all the havoc blowing up in Gotham right now. Robberies, murders, people not daring to step foot outside because of the Lotus threat...it was all music to my ears. I explored the manor more.

Averting my focus to an impressive bookshelf standing behind me as the news carried on, I found myself strangely intrigued and began to explore its contents, trailing my fingers along the books’ spines.

Judging by the almost perfect condition of a lot of these books, I assumed that Bruce hadn’t actually read most of them...and I didn’t blame him. These genres were atrocious. Banking? Academics? Budgeting? What was a billionaire doing with a book about budgeting? These must’ve belonged to his father, back when he was still amassing his insane wealth by picking the entire city clean. I moved on from these texts, travelling elsewhere in the bookshelf.

Standing on my tippy-toes, I noticed a lone, intricate music box occupying the very top shelf, hiding away from sight. It appeared rather new, actually, and it looked like no one had used it yet. I took the music box into my hands.

What was this? I asked myself, gently placing it on a nearby end table. It looked like a gift for someone. Maybe Bruce did have a significant other, after all. Who was it though? The cat lady? Probably. Or it could’ve been for his new best friend, Agent Avesta. I carefully opened the music box and wound it up, examining the inside as I listened to its haunting yet beautiful melody.

The song it played sounded like a romantic waltz for two ghosts, and the emptiness of the manor only enhanced its eerie chimes -- but I couldn’t deny that I felt at peace when I heard it. It was almost like...Bruce thought of me when choosing this song. It fit perfectly.

As for the music box itself, the outside had been decorated with a smooth coat of black paint, and there were highlights of silver designs tracing around it, sort of like a frame. The inner parts however, were much more vibrant. In the center, there was a small, spinning ballerina holding a rose close to her chest, and the space around her was cushioned by purple and green velvet. As for the upper lid, I could see a short, engraved message shimmering in the dim light, reflecting the velvet’s colors. I squinted my eyes, reading the silver calligraphy:

“You’re my light outside of Arkham. --Bruce”

I paused, scratching my head. Why did that sound so familiar? Where had I heard that sentence before? I could’ve sworn someone else said that once. I backtracked through my memories.

Wait a minute.

That was what I said to Bruce back at the cafe, when I pretended to be talking to Harley. Why did he write it down here? He wasn’t...he wasn’t trying to steal Harley away from me, was he? With my own phrase, no less. I laughed to myself. She would never pair up with someone like him. Especially not after the way he betrayed me.

But...what if it wasn’t for Harley? What if...what if it was for--

“--Breaking news,” the TV suddenly blurted out, interrupting my thoughts and causing me to jump again. I turned towards the wide monitor, curious to see what happened.

The same old reporter, Jack Ryder, adjusted his glasses in a grim manner, clearly upset about something.

“This just in,” he announced morosely. “Billionaire and CEO Bruce Wayne has been confirmed dead after battling with the Lotus virus -- a result of the Joker’s attack on Wayne Enterprises three days ago.”

My heart froze in place and I nearly fainted on the spot, taking a second to comprehend what I just heard.

What did he say? B-Bruce was...dead? No, no. That couldn’t be right. They had to be mistaken. I hastily changed the channel, only to come across another news station. There were two reporters this time, sitting side by side as they read off the teleprompter.

“--Well, enough about the weather,” one of them said in a joking manner, switching the subject, “I think all you folks out there joining us today will be far more interested in another topic. A topic relating to one of Gotham’s most prominent citizens. You see, mere moments ago, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises -- Bruce Wayne himself -- was confirmed dead after falling victim to the notorious Lotus virus. Apparently, he managed to survive the virus’s fatal symptoms for an entire three days before finally succumbing to it earlier this morning.”

I hurriedly changed the channel again, the remote trembling in my hand as I shivered from shock, unable to process the news. There was no way Bruce could be dead. The man was practically invincible. A puny little virus couldn’t kill him...right?

But no matter how hard I tried to escape, or how many different reporters I listened to, every single one of them talked about the same thing. In fact, I was flipping through the channels so fast, it started to sound like they were finishing each other’s sentences.

“Philanthropist and entrepreneur Bruce Wayne has passed away--”

“--he was killed by the Lotus virus--”

“--The Agency is still investigating the attack--”

“--who is the Joker, and why did he kill Bruce Wayne?”

“--A service will be held at Divinity Church--”

“--What will happen to Wayne Enterprises now?”

“--no survivors were accounted for during the Joker’s assault--”

“--yet another life taken in this tragic war. The only question now is--”

“--We all have to wonder--”

“--Bruce Wayne’s death has left the city wondering--”

“Who will the Joker go after next?”

Steadily backing away from the TV in horror, the remote slipped from my grasp as my body came to a halt and I felt myself struggling to breathe, my entire world collapsing around me within a matter of minutes.

I. Killed. Bruce. I actually...killed. Bruce. This was all my fault. He died because of me. This was all. My. Fault.

Burying my face in my hands, my eyes began to water as I slid to the floor out of helplessness and suddenly realized why Bruce had been missing for so long, the thought stabbing me right through the chest. He was never hiding like I suspected. He wasn’t playing games with me, or trying to trick me like my paranoia insisted. The whole time, my closest friend had been dying...and I did nothing to stop it. 

I mean, I wanted him to pay for what he did to me, and I was still beyond furious...but I never meant for this to happen. I never actually wanted him to die. I violently shook my head, nearly ripping my hair out. Oh god...what had I done?

“...Bruce,” I whimpered, as if he could hear me, “I’m...so sorry. I just wanted...I just wanted to be loved by you. I never thought it would go this far. I’m so sorry.”

Curling up into a ball, I shut out the world around me and rocked back and forth as the music box’s melody continued to echo throughout the manor’s walls, softly lulling me to sleep. Bruce bought the box for me, didn’t he? I could see that now. I was Bruce’s light outside of Arkham, and I let him die alone in the dark when he needed me most.

I clenched my fist, tears streaming down my face. 

Even though there was no one else to blame for Bruce’s death but myself, I still felt the sudden urge to make Waller pay for all the pain and suffering she put him through. I didn’t know why, but my gut told me the Agency had something to do with this, and I intended to bring them to justice. The right way this time.

Waller killed the Riddler, she nearly killed me, and now, I was more than certain she killed Bruce too. It was high time someone put her and her corrupt organization down, and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure that happened.

Not for me, and certainly not for Gotham...

...but for Bruce.


	4. Lazarus

From Avesta’s POV

THE MORGUE

Taking one last look at Bruce’s damaged corpse before they slid it into the cold chamber, I thought back to when I first found him during the attack at Wayne Enterprises, suddenly regretting that I didn’t end his misery right then and there.

The poor man died believing he had no one left, and it certainly didn’t help that Waller treated him like a lab rat during his final moments. I knew the Director had her reasons for using Bruce as a test subject, considering how hard it was to find living victims of Lotus, but human experimentation just...didn’t sit right with me. This was war, yes, but if we stripped ourselves of our humanity...then we’d already lost. I should’ve pulled the trigger when I had the chance.

Approaching Bruce, I bowed my head respectfully and gazed at his blistered, scarred face, drowning in disbelief that the Joker actually managed to take him down. Bruce and I may not have ended on the best of terms, but it was still clear to me how much he cared about Gotham. He always did what he thought was best for others, and never showed fear. The fact that someone finally beat him, even with all his resistance...it was more than discouraging. I let out a despondent sigh, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill.

“...I’m...I’m sorry we couldn’t save you, Bruce,” I softly said, trying not to break down. “Even though we didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye all the time, you were a friend to me. And I know how much you sacrificed to help make this city a better place. My only regret is that it never helped you in return. That I never helped. I just hope you can find peace now...wherever you are.”

I took a breath, gently placing a hand on top of Bruce’s in a comforting manner. It was unsettling, how...dead...he felt. Even just by touching his skin, I could tell he was no longer breathing. Something about him just...lacked that human warmth I was so used to. It made me think of when Bruce and I investigated Riddler’s body, and it was just one more reminder that he was truly gone for good. I pushed those memories away and focused on the present, regardless of how hard it was to think about. 

“...Don’t worry,” I reassured, tightening my grip. “Your death won’t be in vain. The Agency will hunt down Joker, and we will ensure he’s brought to justice. Harley too. Gotham will be safe. You just rest easy now. It’s the least you deserve...after everything you’ve done.”

I heard a pair of footsteps sneak up behind me.

“Saying goodbye, Avesta?

Whipping around at the sudden intrusion, I found Director Waller prowling towards me with that signature glare of hers as she eyeballed Bruce’s body, barely phased by it. When did she get here? Had she been watching this whole time? I quickly blurted out an explanation.

“I wanted to see Bruce one last time before they put him away.” I said, almost ashamed for some reason. “He was a friend of mine, despite our arguments. I just wish it didn’t have to end like this.”

Waller nodded in understanding and straightened her glasses, linking her hands behind her back. 

“Trust me, you’re not the only one who’s in shock. The rest of the Agency also believed he’d be able to pull through. Everyone was really rooting for him. Bruce had already survived so much longer than the average victim...well, I suppose we all just got too hopeful.”

I gazed at the floor, hesitant to express my true feelings about the situation. “What...what are you gonna do with him...?” I asked. “Are you going to give him a proper burial?”

Waller gave me a look that said she’d been expecting this question. 

“There will be a service held at Divinity Church, but we can’t give up the body just yet.”

“Why not?” I said, sounding more defensive than I intended. “Bruce dedicated his last moments to us -- to our research. The least we can do is repay him by letting him die with grace. He deserves to be buried with his parents. Not kept in some refrigerator at the morgue.”

Waller’s glare intensified at that comment.

“I understand your frustration, Avesta,” she replied, trying her best to stay calm, “but we can’t allow sentiment to get in the way of our work. It sounds cruel, but Bruce is our best chance at finding a solid cure for this damned virus. Not to mention Blake’s informed me about the unrest surrounding his death. When someone as big as Wayne is killed by the Joker, it’s inevitable people will panic. I’ll have to address Gotham’s civilians at some point. Try and ease their nerves. For the moment though, the body stays here. Understand?”

Biting my tongue to prevent myself from protesting further, I reluctantly decided to go along with Waller’s plan, and dropped the argument for now, sighing in disappointment.

“Of course, Director. I...I understand.”

“Good,” she said bluntly, “then we’ll never have this conversation again.”

Marching past me before I could say anything else, Waller took hold of the tray supporting Bruce’s body and firmly slid it forwards, shoving him into the cold chamber with a metallic thud as she shut the door tight. Meanwhile, I stood idly by, powerless to stop her no matter how much I wanted to.

“Well,” Waller straightened her suit, “now that that’s done, we have other problems to deal with. I’ve heard reports saying that Joker’s been spotted poking around Wayne Manor. Seems like the clown wasted no time in taking advantage of Bruce’s death.”

He’s not the only one, I thought to myself.

“We need to go there now,” the Director continued, heading for the morgue’s exit. “This is the closest we’ve been to Joker in days, and I doubt he’s going to make another appearance anytime soon. I want you and Agent Fox to come along with me. You two knew Bruce the best out of all of us. Perhaps you can figure out what Joker was looking for, or if we’re lucky, where he’s gone. Oh, and bring your gas mask. Never know when a surprise might reveal itself.”

I stared at Bruce’s cold chamber with guilt, my gaze lingering for a little longer before I finally followed Waller. 

“...I’m right behind you, ma’am.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From The Janitor’s POV

LATER THAT NIGHT

Skipping down the steps to the morgue, I whistled a merry tune to myself as I plopped a bucket on the floor and dunked my mop in it, sweeping the room clean. The morgue wasn’t exactly my favorite place to be, and it honestly creeped me out at night, but the good thing was there weren’t hordes of furniture blocking my way...unlike some of the agents’ offices. 

Was it really so hard for people to pick up after themselves? They were seriously a pain in the ass to clean sometimes, and there were so many of them. I supposed they thought I was some magician who could get rid of a mess with the snap of my fingers. Psh. Yeah, right. I wished.

Sticking my mop into a corner, I attentively scrubbed away all the dirt and dust gathering there as I continued to whistle, the melody bouncing off the metal walls in harmony. Things were oddly quiet tonight, and normally I appreciated the silence, but today just felt...weird...for some reason. 

It wasn’t the peaceful type of quiet that I enjoyed. It was more like the silence that ensued when you held your breath out of fear. But maybe that was just the vibe the morgue gave off. After all, I was in a room full of dead people. No matter how superstitious you were, that had to be unsettling to some extent.

Dragging the bucket behind me as I moved on to a new section, I splashed the mop into the soapy water once again and carried on with my routine, switching to a different tune. The hushed nature of the morgue was actually starting to grow on me, and I found myself more at peace than when surrounded by chattering agents. The agents didn’t bother me necessarily, but it was good to have some alone time once in a while.

With all the talk about Joker, the Lotus virus, Wayne Enterprises being attacked, and now, Bruce Wayne’s death...it was nice to shut all that out for a second. Even if I didn’t see it myself, just hearing about the pandemonium in Gotham made my hair turn grey, and the stress kept me awake every night. Luckily, I had this job to keep my mind occupied. Being a janitor didn’t buy me a mansion, but it kept me alive. And right now, that was all I cared about.

Before I could savor my solitude any longer however, a suspicious bang suddenly echoed throughout the room, causing me to freeze mid-action as my ears perked in interest. I glanced around in curiosity, peeking around the walls.

“Hello?” I called out. “Anybody there?” 

No answer. Ah, well. It was probably just my imagination playing with me. I shrugged it off and dismissed the interruption.

Just as I was about to resume my work though, the same bang emitted a second time, and it had a bit more force behind it. Now I was certain I wasn’t just hearing things.

“Hello...?” I repeated, a bit louder than before. “Is that you, Calvin? Andrew? I told you guys, you’re not gonna get me like last time. You can only scare me so much before it gets old.”

But still, nothing. Instead, the morgue only remained as lifeless as always, and after a minute or two of waiting, the bang happened again. I started to become anxious.

“...g-guys?” I could feel my heart speeding up. “C’mon, Cal. I-I know it’s you. Just...just come out.” 

Complete silence.

Placing my mop in the bucket, I decided to investigate and wandered past the cold chambers in search of my friends, only to leap out of my skin when I realized the bang was coming from one of the chambers themselves. 

Tripping to the floor out of panic, I frantically scooted back towards the wall, desperately trying to get away from the source of the noise as the bang became more frequent and the color drained from my face. It looked like something was trying to break out from inside, and once I squinted my eyes at the label a bit, I realized that the chamber belonged to none other than Bruce Wayne himself. Wasn’t that guy dead? What the hell was going on? Why was his chamber’s door pounding?! I screamed at myself to get up and run, but my legs wouldn’t budge.

Finally, with one last bang, the door slammed open and a sea of frozen mist oozed out of the chamber, blasting a wave of ice-cold air in my direction as it clouded the entire morgue. I shivered at the sudden drop and my teeth were chattering, but what emerged from the chamber made me tremble more than I ever had in my entire life.

Crawling its way out in a sluggish manner, I saw the reanimated corpse of Bruce Wayne dragging itself to freedom as a horrifying breath escaped it -- almost like it hadn’t felt the kiss of oxygen for a hundred years. Its skin was nearly the same shade of snow, and the pale base only made the scars on its face stand out more. How...how was he moving...?! Was I seeing shit? I had to be...! There was no way in hell this could be real. People couldn’t come back from the dead...right?

Paralyzed with terror, I remained as motionless as a statue and watched while Bruce weakly lugged himself out, flopping onto the floor like a fish. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe...hell, I couldn’t even shout for help. All I could do was sit there like a duck waiting to be shot, and my heart felt like it was about to hammer through my chest. I planted my hands into the surface beneath me, bracing myself for what was coming.

Pushing himself up from the floor, Bruce slowly rose to his feet like a corpse taking leave of its tomb, and his shadow towered over me as a predator would when waiting to kill its prey. But worst of all -- glaring at me from under those dark strands of hair, I spotted a pair of empty, cold blue eyes making contact with mine, one of them damaged from the infection. 

I held up a protective arm in front of myself, uncontrollably shaking as Bruce skulked towards me.

“...How...how are you alive?” I breathed out, unable to even get my voice above a whisper. “The Lotus virus...it...it killed you!”

Bruce glowered and snatched me by the collar, bringing me close to his face as I let out a pathetic whimper, verging on tears. He practically snarled at me, baring his teeth like a feral animal. 

Bruce let out a low chuckle.

“...It certainly tried.”


	5. Parasite

From Avesta’s POV

Returning to the Agency’s base after investigating Wayne Manor with Waller and Tiffany, we all approached the front door in unison, only to notice the sudden unrest that was buzzing among the other agents. 

Things were usually tense around here anyways, but the mood today felt particularly disturbed. People were whispering to one another, keeping their conversations in hushed tones, and they didn’t dare make eye contact with anyone not in their social group. What was going on? Was this about Bruce’s death? I eavesdropped on some of the conversations as we passed by, hoping to see if I could piece the puzzle together.

“...did you hear about what happened to Jacob? That janitor?” One agent murmured.

“How could I not?” His friend replied. “It’s all anyone’s been talking about today. Didn’t he get attacked by someone?”

“It wasn’t just ‘someone.’ Apparently this guy came back from the dead. I dunno the attacker’s name, but I’ve been hearing people call him Lazarus.”

A chuckle. “Lazarus? Fitting. But c’mon. Rising from the dead? You don’t think that’s a bit, ah...far-fetched?”

The first agent shrugged. “Well, we are in Gotham. And you’ve heard the stories about this city. Nothing ordinary ever happens around here.”

“Yeah, but still -- no city escapes death. Not even this one. Hell, especially not this one.”

“Tell that to Lazarus.”

I tuned out of their little chat, trying to process everything they just said as the gears turned in my head. Who was Lazarus? And why would he attack some random janitor? Was he another masked criminal lurking around Gotham, trying to get in on all the chaos? Great. As if we needed more problems. The Agency’s plate was beyond full already, and we were starting to become stretched thin. The last thing we needed was another crime boss trying to play god. I continued to follow my colleagues, keeping an ear out for anything else that could’ve been of interest.

“Is it just me,” Tiffany commented, darting her eyes around, “or is something slightly off today?”

“Yes,” Waller replied in a suspicious tone. “I’m getting that vibe as well. Something must’ve happened while we were away.”

“Maybe it’s because of Bruce,” I suggested. “I know his death sent shock-waves through Gotham.”

The director shook her head. “No, this is different. The Joker killed dozens of people with his attack on Wayne Enterprises, and even then our agents held up just fine. There’s more to this than meets the eye.”

“To be fair,” Tiffany said, “Bruce wasn’t exactly a nobody. All of Gotham knew about him, and he was pretty powerful too. It makes sense his death would have more of an impact.”

“Perhaps,” Waller conceded, “but I still get the feeling there’s something else going on. And not in the good way.”

Tiffany gestured at the front door. “Well, there’s Agent Blake. Maybe he can tell us what’s got everyone so tense.”

Picking up her pace, Waller sped ahead the rest of the group, beckoning us. “Good thinking. Come on, let’s see what we can learn.”

“Agent Blake!” She called out, grabbing the man’s attention. An expression of relief washed over his face.

“Director!” he jogged over, “there you are. I’ve been looking for you all day.”

Her eyes narrowed in concern. “Oh? And why is that?”

“An incident in the morgue,” Blake explained, clearly a bit panicked. “One of the janitors -- Jacob -- was assaulted last night. Badly. We’re lucky we found him when we did. He almost got killed.”

Tiffany joined in. “Killed? By who? Do we know?”

He crossed his arms, unsure of how to respond. “...I mean...technically, yes.”

Waller quirked a brow. “What do you mean technically? Do we have a suspect or do we not?”

Blake’s face turned grim as he briefly glanced around the area, stepping closer and making sure no one outside our group could hear us.

“...You might’ve heard whispers about a guy called ‘Lazarus’ on your way here,” he said. “Well, according to Jacob...Lazarus’s true identity...is Bruce Wayne.”

The director didn’t buy it. “Bruce Wayne,” she repeated with a scoff. “Really. Do you honestly expect me to believe that? A corpse returning from the dead?”

“I said the same thing,” Blake agreed, “but Jacob swears on his life that it was him.”

Waller still stonewalled the idea. “Well, he nearly lost his life, so I’d like to investigate the issue before jumping to conclusions. Where’s Jacob now? I want to speak with him.”

“He’s in the infirmary, ma’am. Though, I’m not sure how much we should rely on his word. The assault gave him a good fright. He’s not really...functioning properly at the moment.”

“I understand. Thank you for the information, Blake. I’ll go see him now. As for you two,” Waller turned to me and Tiffany, “inform the GCPD that I’ll be addressing the city tomorrow. I think it’s time someone brought its people out of the dark, and it’s best if the local police make a presence as well. Morale plays a huge part in wars, and it’s important that even if Gotham’s citizens don’t exactly feel secure, they at least trust us.”

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Then let’s get to work, everyone. We have a lot of lives counting on us, and I’ll be damned if we let Gotham fall under the Joker’s control. These people have seen enough tragedy. It’s time we let them know that they are being protected, and that we will do everything within our power to keep them safe.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From John’s POV

THE FUNHOUSE

I blankly stared at the music box in front of me as its tormenting song looped like a broken record, conjuring dreadful thoughts of my final moments with Bruce.

All those weeks we spent together, all those laughs we shared, all that blood we spilled...and he had been in love with me the whole...damn...time. How did I never see it? How did I overlook the signs? Was I really that stupid? I could figure out he was Batman for god’s sake, but apparently, picking up a few hints of romance was too hard for my observational skills. God, I was such an idiot!

I thought back to when Bruce and I had some drinks at the Stacked Deck, my mind repeating that same question over and over again -- almost as if my own brain was trying to taunt me.

“...Are you in love with me, John?” He had asked, with those oh-so-innocent, big, blue eyes of his...gazing at me with a look of compassion I’d never seen from anyone else. Not even from Harley.

The man had literally said it straight to my face, and even then I was too dull to understand what he was implying. But that wasn’t the only hint Bruce dropped. He also constantly helped me, advised me, protected me, trusted me...and he even let me get away with the murder of those agents back at the carnival.

Bruce never pardoned murder. No matter who was responsible. For him to turn a blind eye to my crimes...he must’ve loved me more than anything. 

And I killed him as repayment.

I let out an outraged yell and slammed a tight fist against a nearby wall, causing one of the framed photos to tremble and collapse, the sound of cracked glass reaching my ears. 

I inhaled deeply through my nose and took a moment to regain composure before reaching down and picking up the shattered frame, carefully taking the broken glass into my hands. Flipping the photo over, I saw one of my favorite captures -- a picture I snuck of Bruce when he was busy tinkering with a gadget, completely unaware of my presence. 

He had been messing with one of his famed grappling guns, and the focus in his face alone could tell you how concentrated he was. His brow was furrowed with attentiveness, his hands were steady with precision, and he had the most delicate grip on the tool he was using.

Bruce looked so at peace here. He always seemed to find solace in taking things apart and putting them back together. Heck, he even did that with me.

Those were the things I loved most about Bruce. His patience, his spontaneous nature, his desire to help people, his curiosity...but most of all -- his passion. Up until I met Bruce, I had never seen any other man or woman who carried such a fiery determination within them, and to be able to draw out that dark flame he cradled...it was a thrill like none other. 

As time passed on however, that thrill started to turn into a bond, and that bond...turned into love. Though, I didn’t recognize it as such in the beginning. Instead, I just waved it off like a dummy, and slapped on the overused excuse of “being too stressed,” and “feeling ill.” When, in reality, I had finally found my true soul mate. A man who genuinely cared about me, and wasn’t just using me to corral any survivors of the Lotus virus. 

There was also the fact that Bruce actually knew how to spell my freakin’ name. Even now, Harley always forgot the “H.” Honestly, was she even trying anymore at this point?

“...uh, boss?”

I nearly swallowed my lungs at the unexpected voice, and whirled around to face the intruder. It was Willy.

I clutched my chest, letting out a long exhale. 

“Geez, Willy, it wouldn’t kill you to learn how to knock. You almost killed me.”

“Oh,” Willy stuttered, “um...sorry, Mr. J.”

I shuddered. “No, no -- only Harley calls me that, got it? When you say it, it’s just...creepy.”

He frowned a little. “What about Mr. Joker?”

I waved both my hands in a cancelling manner, desperately trying to change the topic.

“Forget about it!” I quickly dismissed. “What d’you want?”

Slipping a phone out of his pocket, Willy showed me a video of what looked like a live news report, and Amanda Waller’s face was smack-dab in the middle of the screen right next to the reporter themselves.

“The director of the Agency, Amanda Waller, will be addressing Gotham tomorrow morning at City Hall alongside the GCPD and the mayor,” the reporter announced. “During this address, Director Waller will tackle topics about Gotham’s security, the Joker, and most importantly, the lethal virus known as ‘Lotus’ that has been taking this city by storm.”

A toothy grin stretched across my face, and I couldn’t contain the excited chuckle that escaped through my lips.

“A city address, eh?” I snickered. “Waller will be out in the open. She’ll also be surrounded by hordes of people. They’re probably going to be under heavy security, but even then, we should be able to hide some of our boys in the crowds. It’s the perfect opportunity to strike.”

I laughed ecstatically, slapping my palms on both sides of Willy’s face.

“Oh, Willy, you’re a genius! Now, if only you had the looks too, you might be able to compete with me, hehe!”

I spun Willy around in a flamboyant fashion and shooed him towards my office’s door, eager to get to work as soon as possible. 

“Go on and get the men ready!” I exclaimed merrily. “I want every single pair of legs under our command to march their way to City Hall. This is the opening we’ve been waiting for, and by gosh are we gonna seize it!”

Willy gave me a casual salute. “Right away, Mr. Johnny!”

I rolled my eyes, groaning. “...sure, whatever. Just get to it.”

Scuttling away from the office, Willy rushed off to carry out his orders as I shut the door behind him, smirking at my Bruce doll which was sitting on the edge of my desk right next to the music box.

“You hear that, my love?” I said, my voice fluttering. “I’m gonna make Waller pay for what she did to you, and I will bring her to justice. She is going to suffer for everything. I promise. The last thing Waller will ever see is me smiling down at her decaying, withering corpse...just as it rots right next to yours.”

I clapped my hands together and picked up the doll, twirling it around the room as I cackled in a deranged tone. 

“We are going to have so...much...fun! AHAHA!”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Bruce’s POV

THE BATCAVE - THAT NIGHT

Loading the machine gun with ammunition as the news carried on about Waller’s address, I double-checked to make sure my Lotus-pumped smoke pellets were functioning along with the EMP generator, and ran a quick diagnostics scan on all my gadgets. 

So far, the Batcomputer hadn’t detected any obvious errors, and it appeared as if my modified version of the Lotus virus was ready to go. That meant all I needed to do was activate the smoke grenades as I always did, and the rest would handle itself.

As for the drones, they had all been equipped with paralyzing bolts that would prevent anyone from running in case they tried to flee, and had thermal lenses on the cameras to spot people easier through the virus’s thick fog. Things were undoubtedly going to get messy during this emergency address, and if I had my way, it was going to end in a storm of sickness and blood. What better way to show Gotham’s civilians the threat they were facing...than making them experience it first hand?

“Rumors about a mysterious figure known as ‘Lazarus’ have also been circling around,” the news continued. “According to witnesses, Lazarus looks extremely similar -- if not identical -- to the late Bruce Wayne. As a result, speculations are starting to surface that perhaps, Wayne never died in the first place, and is actually in hiding. Could these rumors hold any truth? Did the Agency declare him dead to cover something bigger up? Who is this ‘Lazarus,’ and what does he want? Stay tuned with us after this commercial break to find out. I’m Julia Ramarque, and you’re watching GCTV.”

Wandering away from the computer and over to the armory, I began preparing my gear as well as my new suit-- only this time, it wasn’t a bat. Instead, it simply consisted of a tuxedo along with a pair of armored gloves that would help me deal more damage, similar to the ones Cobblepot stole from my lab. Except now, their design was much less clunky, and as a result, wouldn’t make as much noise.

I glanced over at the small display case holding my parents’ tickets, a sting of remorse piercing through me as memories of that horrid night flashed in my head.

“I’m sorry I have to do this,” I said, taking a black bandana from my wardrobe. “I know how much both of you gave to this city, and I wish I didn’t have to undo all your work,” I tied the cloth around my marred face, picking up the machine gun. “But this city is a parasite, sucking the life out of its citizens. No one lives in Gotham. Gotham lives off of its people. It has to burn...and it will.”


	6. Reign of Terror

From Avesta’s POV

CITY HALL - THE NEXT MORNING

Patiently waiting by as civilians gathered for the emergency address, Tiffany and I stood off to the side, making sure everything was in order while the guards got into position. Men, women, and children all flooded the plaza in front of City Hall, and the entrances had been blocked by both GCPD and Agency vehicles, as well as security gates.

So far, there was no sign of Joker or any of his men, and this “Lazarus” hadn’t shown up yet either. The janitor who was attacked by him was still in shock, and I doubted he’d be returning to work anytime soon, but otherwise, no one else seemed to be hurt. At least, not physically.

The optimistic side of me hoped that today would go by peacefully, and that we would get this speech done without any problems, but deep down...I knew a storm was coming. Whenever Gotham’s criminals saw an opportunity, they always seized it -- and this address was a huge opening. I just prayed that if something did happen, the Agency and GCPD would be enough to fight off these bastards. 

Battling with trained agents and police officers was one thing, but going after innocent civilians who were powerless to defend themselves...we couldn’t allow that to happen. These people deserved peace, and we were going to give it to them.

“...Hey,” I heard Tiffany say, breaking my trance-like state. She was peering at me with concern. “Are you okay, Iman? You look a bit...down.”

Gazing at the floor, I softly cleared my throat.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” I lied. “I just...I just can’t help but feel sort of guilty for what happened to Bruce. Letting him die in such a horrible way.”

She raised a brow, confused. “What do you mean? Why would his death be your fault?”

My eyes travelled to my pistol, bringing me back to the day we found Bruce at Wayne Enterprises.

“When we rescued Bruce from Wayne Tower a few days ago,” I told her, “he was...he was broken. He had just watched all his colleagues die, and one of his closest friends betrayed him. It certainly didn’t help matters when I informed him about his Lotus infection. All of this happening at once...it must’ve made Bruce desperate. He wanted a way out. He...” I trailed off, hesitant to continue. Tiffany put a hand on my shoulder, rubbing it in a comforting way.

“...Go on,” she urged. “It’s okay. You should talk about it now, rather than lashing out later.”

I took a deep breath, deciding not to hold back anymore.

“...He asked me to shoot him.”

Tiffany’s eyes sprung open. “What? Oh...I-I’m sorry. I assume you didn’t do it?”

“...No,” I confirmed. “I thought it was for the best. I thought that...I don’t know, I thought maybe there would be a chance we could save him. But I should’ve known better. There is no ‘rescuing’ when it comes to Lotus, is there? The virus kills its victims, no matter what. In the end, the Agency only made Bruce’s suffering worse, and he died as a lab rat. None of that would’ve happened to him if it weren’t for me. I may not be guilty for his death, but I am guilty for the fact that he lived long enough to ask for it.”

Tiffany was silent for a moment, a bit surprised at the confession.

“...You can’t blame yourself for Bruce’s suffering, Iman. You didn’t lock him in a lab and cut him up with a scalpel. The doctors did that. Whatever pain he experienced before his death is their fault. Not yours. You just did what you thought was right. No one can blame you for that. And besides, I have my own part to play in Bruce’s struggles.”

I was taken aback. “What are you talking about? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Tiffany reached into her jacket and pulled out a golden pocket-watch, gripping it tight.

“...this used to belong to Alfred,” she explained, flipping the lid open. “Before he left, he asked me to pass it onto Bruce as a goodbye gift...but I never got the chance. I tried to give it to him when he was being held in the cell, but the doctors refused to let me in. Instead, Bruce probably died believing Alfred no longer cared for him, and it’s all because of me.”

I frowned, bringing my attention back to the crowd of civilians. “I suppose everyone failed Bruce in some way, didn’t we? Otherwise, he wouldn’t be where he is now. But all we can do is atone for it. We have to keep Gotham safe from Lotus and the Joker. We can’t let Bruce die in vain.”

Tiffany nodded in agreement, slipping the watch back into her pocket. “I hear that.”

“Agent Avesta!” Waller’s voice suddenly called out from a distance, bellowing over everyone else’s like a megaphone. I turned towards the source, only to see the woman herself beckoning me.

“I also hear the Director trying to get your attention.” Tiffany added.

“Noted,” I replied. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna see what she wants.”

“That would be wise.”

Taking my leave, I casually walked over to Waller and tried my best to look professional in hopes of hiding my true feelings. I was already on thin ice with the director ever since our discussion in the morgue, and I didn’t want to anger her further.

“Ma’am,” I greeted. “Is everything all right?”

The way she glowered at me said “no.” 

Waller crossed her arms in a strict fashion and circled around me for a bit, pushing her glasses up her nose. 

“...Where’s Bruce’s body, Avesta?” She asked. It was more of a demand than a question.

I paused, thrown off-guard by the assumption. What was she talking about?

“...I’m...I’m afraid I don’t follow.” I answered.

The director was unconvinced. “Oh, please, agent. Do you seriously expect me to believe that a corpse rose from the dead, nearly killed one of our employees, and broke free without any of our people catching him? Gotham’s a bizarre place, I’ll give you that, but it ain’t that bizarre. The only logical explanation here is that someone stole Bruce’s body -- and I don’t wanna point fingers -- but you did express your disapproval about keeping him here just a few days ago, did you not?”

I put a hand over my chest, slightly offended at the accusation. “You think I took his body?”

“If not you, then who else?”

“I-I don’t know...did the janitor mention seeing anyone?”

Waller shook her head. “No. Even now, Jacob swears up and down that Bruce just crawled out of his cold chamber and attacked him, but I don’t buy a word of it. It’s far more plausible that someone would sneak in and remove Bruce’s body from the lab. For what purpose, I don’t know, but all I care about right now is finding the damn thing, and something tells me you’re a good place to start.”

I stumbled over my words, thinking of what to say. “Director, I assure you I had nothing to do with the disappearance of Bruce’s body. I know it seems unlikely, but...what if the janitor’s telling the truth? Maybe Bruce was never dead in the first place.”

“Our top doctors and scientists were working on him. They know a dead man when they see one.”

I persisted. “But what if the Lotus virus--”

“Enough,” Waller interrupted. “I don’t know what you’re hiding from me, Avesta, but I want that body back and intact. Do I make myself clear?”

Slouching my shoulders in defeat, I gave up for now, seeing as how it was obvious the director wouldn’t change her mind. I gave her a firm nod.

“...yes, ma’am.”

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Waller straightened her suit, walking off, “I have a city to address.”

Shoving past me, Waller made her way to the podium at the front of the grand stage as the crowd settled down, adjusting the numerous microphones so that everyone could hear her properly. By now, an army of civilians, journalists, policemen, and agents had flooded the plaza, and the constant light of camera flashes reflected off of the director’s glasses. I decided to lay low for the moment and took my place in the background, waiting for the speech to begin.

I didn’t know what that whole business about Bruce’s body was, but it made me uneasy that it was actually gone. At first, I thought that maybe the attacker was just someone who looked like Bruce, and the janitor may have mistaken him for the billionaire -- but with the vanishing of the corpse and Jacob’s claims about him coming back to life...it made me wonder. Did he really return from the dead? Was he even dead to begin with? Countless questions overwhelmed my head, and I didn’t know what to make of the situation, but I pushed them aside for now. At the moment, my only job was to keep these people safe, and I intended on doing just that.

~~~~~~~~~~

From John’s POV

“Are the bombs in place?” I asked Willy through a rainbow-decorated walkie-talkie as Harley and I waited in the car. “The speech is almost starting.”

“We’re still planting the last few,” he replied. “We just have to take out the guards around the area.”

I groaned. “Well, hurry it up! Waller ain’t waiting forever! And neither is Batman...” falling silent for a second, I quickly changed the subject. “Whatever -- just get the job done! Waller needs to die, and we need to find that serum. Fast.”

“On it, Mr. Johnny!”

Harley rolled her eyes, resting her feet on the dash. “Mr. Johnny?’ Really, Pud?”

I set the walkie-talkie down and drove us to a closer observation point, making sure to stay out of sight.

“Let the man have his fun,” I defended Willy. “Things have been dry lately anyways.”

“Eh, true enough,” Harley winked at me, hugging her sledgehammer, “but today we’ll have loads of fun. Ain’t that right, sweetie?”

I winked back, giggling sinisterly. “You can be sure of that, babe. Heads are gonna roll.”

She leaned over and pecked a kiss on my cheek. “I like the way you think.”

I deviously rubbed my hands together, turning on a small TV installed in the car. “All right, let’s see how Waller’s speech is doing. After all, every show needs a good introduction. We’ll let the civilians get niiice and comfortable before blowing anything up. Make them think they’re safe and sound when all of a sudden...BAM! Now that’s gonna be a climax!”

Pressing the power button, the devil lady herself instantly appeared on-screen, barking utter nonsense as usual while the audience keenly listened. Everything appeared to be moving smoothly thus far, and none of the security guards seemed panicked. Good, good. That meant they weren’t aware of my presence. Things were going according to plan.

“--Citizens of Gotham,” Waller began, resting her hands on the podium, “I know these past few weeks have been extremely difficult -- and our lives have been full of nothing but death, chaos, and tragedy. But I assure you, that will all soon come to an end. The Agency has been working tirelessly to find a solid cure for the Lotus virus, and we are this close to succeeding. We’ve done our research, we’ve conducted tests, and I promise you, we are making progress. But that’s not all I came here to talk about.”

Waller straightened her posture, linking her arms behind her back.

“The Joker.”

I clapped happily and pointed at the screen, laughing out of joy. “That’s me, that’s me!”

“By now, I’m sure this is a name all of you are familiar with. He has threatened our safety, killed our loved ones, and shaken the very foundation on which this city was built upon.”

I frowned. “...that’s a bit harsh.”

“However, despite all these struggles,” the director continued, “I must ask you not to panic. Not only will that give the Joker more opportunities to attack us, it will also make us stronger against him. The Joker’s been getting sloppy lately, and both the GCPD and the Agency are closing in on him -- along with any of his associates. We will do everything within our power to ensure Joker is put behind bars, and that he stays there.”

Groups of people in the crowd could be seen nodding with approval and gathering inspiration from Waller’s speech, while others didn’t look so sure about the claims. Those people were the smart ones.

“And speaking of maniacs loose on the streets,” a disgusted look plastered itself on Waller’s face, “I am well aware of these rumors that have been circling around about a certain ‘Lazarus.’ Well, I can assure you, they are just that. Rumors. Neither the Agency nor the GCPD have encountered anyone who fits such a description, and this ‘Lazarus’ is certainly not Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne has officially been declared dead, and that will forever be his status, I’m afraid.”

Out of nowhere, an unknown male voice suddenly joined the scene, followed by the clicking of a gun.

“...are you so sure about that, director?”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Waller’s POV

Freezing mid-action, I glanced over my shoulder to see just who the hell had interrupted my speech, only to come across the most peculiar looking man...along with a gun aimed at my head.

The man was wearing a suit that actually blended in rather well with the Agents’, and there was a black bandana tied around bottom half of his face. Despite the coverage though, I could still see patches of scarred skin surrounding his right eye, and the organ itself had been mildly blinded, making it a hazy-blue color. 

Even with all the marring however, it was impossible for me to not recognize the fierce gaze that practically bore into my skull. It was the same gaze that haunted me ever since the incident at Wayne Enterprises, and the same one that pierced through the lab’s window. Who was this man? Was that...was that who I thought it was?

Before I could ask myself anymore questions though, a few of the other agents cautiously approached the man in hopes of subduing him, only to be shot directly in the forehead with a series of sharp bangs as their blood sprayed onto the floor. 

And as if that wasn’t enough, an electronic blast violently erupted throughout the plaza, shutting down all the security gates as well as deactivating the Agents’ pistols, causing the audience to scream in fear once they realized they were trapped. I tried to order my remaining agents to put down the culprit, but was forced to stop when he pulled out a detonator, making sure everyone could see it.

“Anyone moves a single muscle,” he roared, “and I will blow this place to hell...where it belongs.”

Tiffany let out a shaky breath in the background, paralyzed in place as she watched the scene. I supposed I wasn’t the only one who recognized him. 

“...B-Bruce?” She whimpered, sounding heartbroken. “Is that y-you...?”

His attention flicked over to her, and a wicked twinkle of delight glinted in his gaze.

“Didn’t think you’d be so surprised to see me, Tiffany. Especially after Jacob gave you quite the warning. But that’s the Agency for you, isn’t it? Refusing to listen to what it doesn’t believe. Looks like you should’ve heeded my advice.” 

Bruce took a few steps in my direction, holding me in place with his gun. “Psh, look at you. Tending to the sheep, convincing them you’re their shepherd. Do these people realize you’re also the wolf preying on them at night? Picking from their herd, choosing whose wool to strip? Funny, how you don’t mention that. I bet Bruce Wayne would have a word or two to say about it.”

I grimaced at him, almost growling my next words. “...so you’re Lazarus.”

“A name given to me by your people,” Bruce replied. “Even now, the Agency continues to create me. Everything I do, everything I am -- it’s because of you, Waller, and I hope you understand that. Though, it does make me wonder...where do we go from here? How does this road come to an end? I mean, we all know its destination...don’t we?”

I waved a strict hand. “Enough, Lazarus. Surrender now, or my people will shoot you where you stand.”

Bruce obviously wasn’t shaken by the threat, and continued his little game.

“Be careful, Waller,” he warned. “Your courage makes you vulnerable...but so does your fear. How is it that polar opposites could give you the exact same result?” 

Bruce prowled towards me in a calm manner, still holding me at gunpoint. 

“That’s how the universe toys with us, you see. It tricks us into believing we can divert our paths, and it laughs at us when we try. After all, there’s no crueler method to torture a man than giving him the illusion of choice. But you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Director? Why don’t you tell these people what you really did to Bruce Wayne? Tell them how he truly died.”

I could see the audience watching us with a newfound interest, but I refused to give in and kept my mouth shut. Bruce stormed to me, planting the gun’s barrel directly against my temple as he leaned uncomfortably close to my face.

“TELL THEM!” He hissed, his tone dripping with venom.

“I will not,” I said sternly. “You think you can just march onto the stage and order me around because you’ve got a gun? The Agency has dealt with people like you before, and it will continue to deal with people like you. You’re nothing special. Just another common criminal trying to become king when you’re only a rat in the gutter.

Bruce chuckled, almost sounding genuinely pleased.

“A common criminal, eh? Tell me, Director, how many common criminals do you know of...that can say they’ve killed the Batman?”

A unanimous gasp emitted from the crowd, and people immediately starting turning to each other, murmuring out of disbelief.

“--Batman’s dead?”

“--That’s impossible, you can’t kill Batman...”

“--Holy shit, what are we gonna do?”

My eyes widened at the claim, and I looked at Bruce with bewilderment. He actually went there. 

“What are you--”

“--Where else do you think Batman’s been these past few days?” He taunted, enjoying himself far too much. “Why else do you think that, whenever the GCPD fires up the Bat Signal, he never answers anymore? It’s because he’s dead, Waller, and you better get used to it.” Bruce held up the detonator, announcing his final words.

“I’m only giving you once chance, Director. This road will lead to death’s doorstep no matter what, but I’m giving you a choice on how to venture it. Take your Agency and leave Gotham for good. Otherwise...this city will belong to me by the end of the week, and today’s events will pale in comparison to the future.”

I gritted my teeth. “You can’t be serious!”

He chuckled. “Oh, but I am.”

Activating the detonator, colossal clouds of the Lotus virus suddenly burst into the air with a ground-shaking boom and spread like wildfire, painting the sky yellow as it infected all of City Hall. Drones soared through the sky and ejected paralytic bolts, shooting down people who were trying to escape as they pushed and shoved each other aside, desperately running for their lives.

“Gas masks ON!” I yelled at my agents. “Get these civilians to safety, NOW!”

Civilians immediately began scrambling all over the place, bolting blindly through the thick fog and falling to their knees as they suffocated on the virus, coughing to death within seconds. Only this time, they didn’t actually die. Instead, their bodies twitched and mutated into disgusting creatures, growths developing around their heads as the insanity took affect instantly, causing them to viciously attack others nearby. It was hell on Earth.

Parents were carrying their children away from the terror and wailing for help, pointlessly covering their kids’ mouths as they were forced to face the inevitable. People banged their hands on the walls of police cars as they evacuated the square, screaming at the drivers to let them in and climbing on top. Meanwhile, those who didn’t manage to escape were tackled to the ground by the mutated victims and ripped to shreds, screaming in agony during their final moments. 

It was like something out of a nightmare, and I was powerless to wake up.

I turned to Bruce with a look of terror amidst all the havoc, trembling inside out at the scene. 

“...What...what have you done?”

Pulling down his bandana, Lazarus revealed an inhumane, twisted smile that had been hiding underneath the fabric as it continued to stretch wider, fueled by the shrieks of panic that could be heard throughout the plaza. 

He sauntered off, vanishing within the mist like a phantom escaping daylight.

“Why, Director...I’m just finishing what you started.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From John’s POV

“What the hell?!” I exclaimed at the screen. “Was that...was that Bruce?! What’s he doing here? I thought he was dead! You mean...he’s not?” I cackled excitedly, jumping out of delight.

“You say that like it’s good news.” Harley retorted.

I strapped on my gas mask and snatched a pistol, slamming the car’s door open. 

“It is! Hehe! It means the enemy of my dreams is back! Only, he’s doing it all wrong...! I’m supposed to be the villain. Not him! Wait here, hon. I’m gonna have a word with this ‘Lazarus.” I took out my walkie-talkie, giving orders to my men.

“Forget the bombs!” I said. “Looks like Lazarus took care of that for us. Just go after Waller, and bring her to me alive! I want to personally put a bullet in her brain. Got it?”

“Right away!”

Shutting the door behind me, I fought through the virus’ thick fog and gunned down agents and cops alike, shooting my way to Bruce who had grappled onto a rooftop, slithering away like a snake. Well, even if Batman was gone, he certainly hadn’t given up his old toys.

Using my own grappling gun, I latched onto the roof’s edge and hurled myself up, chasing after the man as I called out his name.

“Brucie!” I waved a hand, sprinting towards him. “Buddy! Where do you think you’re going?”

He halted in his tracks at the sound of my voice and steadily turned around to see who it was, but didn’t stay long enough to greet me. Instead, just before I could reach him, Bruce set off one of his damned smoke pellets and clouded my vision, leading me to lose sight of him. I coughed at the stench for a few moments, waving the puffs away as I tried to relocate Bruce, but to no avail.

Why was he being so evasive? Usually, the man was so eager when it came to pursuing me, but now, it felt like he was shutting me out. Was this because of what I did at Wayne Enterprises? Was he holding a grudge against me for killing Regina? It would make sense...but even then, Batman always confronted his problems face-to-face. It was so unlike him to just...run. 

But then again, he wasn’t Batman anymore, was he? The Agency had morphed and twisted Bruce into something far more dangerous than he could’ve ever imagined, and his insanity was only going to drive him closer towards the edge.

As much as I loved Bruce’s fire...this wasn’t how I wanted things to happen. I was supposed to be the villain of his dreams, and he was supposed to be the caped vigilante who saved the day. I was his light...outside of Arkham. Why was he trying to snuff me out? What did Waller do to him? What did I do to him?

Roaming towards the rooftop’s border, I viewed the beautiful aftermath of Lazarus’ attack below, revelling in the turmoil that now stained the air. Police sirens echoed with emptiness in the distance, survivors of the assault were sobbing uncontrollably, my men were wreaking havoc, and countless, deformed corpses littered the streets surrounding City Hall. It was mayhem like none I’d ever seen, and I absolutely loved it. 

I didn’t know what Bruce was like now, or who this ‘Lazarus’ was, but I couldn’t deny that I was hooked onto his new, malicious nature. Watching him parade on stage like that, injecting fear into those around him...it made my heart soar with excitement, and I found myself howling with laughter at the madness ensuing in the plaza below.  
“You can run all you want, Lazarus,” I shouted to the sky as if he could hear me, “but we will meet again! I promise you that! The stitch...ain’t broken yet! HAHAHA!”


	7. Desire

From Avesta’s POV

Pain. Heat. Anger.

All of these things rushed through my body as I fought through the virus’ blinding fog, desperately searching for any survivors of Lazarus’ attack.

City Hall had become one, giant graveyard within a single morning, and between dealing with the mutated Lotus victims and Joker’s goons...it felt like I was standing in the middle of a battlefield.

People of all ages, all sizes, all strengths...just...laid around me like litter on the ground, their eyes stuck open and their faces twisted with horror. It was one of the most frightening things I’d ever witnessed in my whole career, and I wanted more than anything to get out, but I couldn’t just leave these civilians to their fate. Even if they were going to die, they at least deserved to die in a place of comfort.

Bending down to flip some of the corpses over, I found myself becoming more and more anguished as I realized none of them were alive. Instead, I only came across one dead man after another, the pile starting to rise as the fog gradually faded away. 

How could something like this happen, I thought, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. How could the Agency allow all these people to die? Our job was to keep Gotham safe, and we just failed miserably. After today’s events, I wasn’t sure if the city would ever trust us again. Not only did we let Lazarus get away, the maniac also managed to turn all of Gotham against us with a single threat. He certainly thought this through, didn’t he.

“Iman!” Someone called from a distance, tearing me away from my thoughts. I squinted through the yellow mist, only to see Blake jogging towards me.

“Blake!” I exclaimed with relief, “thank god you’re okay.”

He pulled me into a compassionate hug, eyeing all the bodies around us with regret. “...the same can’t be said for everyone, unfortunately. Not many were able to escape Lazarus’ bombs, and the rest were killed by Joker’s men. The other agents have sent what survivors they could find to the hospital, and Waller’s ordered us to regroup at GCPD as soon as possible. I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do for these people...except give them a proper burial.”

My head hung low. “...all right. I...I understand. I’m just sad we couldn’t help them more.”

Blake broke the hug. “Believe me, the entire Agency’s in shock. We’ve dealt with our fair share of crazies before, but none at this level. Not even the Riddler gave us this much trouble. It’s going to take a hell lot of effort if we want to bring Lazarus down, and something tells me this is just the beginning. Well, anyways, we can talk more about this later. We should report to Waller at GCPD.”

I nodded, still gazing at the sea of bodies surrounding City Hall. Not a breathing soul was in sight, and the deathly silence that hung in the atmosphere only enhanced the morbid mood.

I held Blake’s hand in search for comfort. “...Lead the way.”

~~~~~~~~~~

GCPD, THE DIRECTOR’S OFFICE

“What a goddamned mess.” Waller muttered, firmly planting her hands on the desk in front of her. “Lazarus escapes, the casualties have reached the hundreds, and now the entire city is trying to kick the Agency out in fear that Bruce might actually go through with his threat.”

“In all honesty,” Blake said skeptically, “even if the Agency did leave, I doubt that would stop Bruce from advancing with his plans. In fact, I think that would just give him more freedom to do as he pleased.”

Waller regained composure, adjusting her suit. “My point exactly. And that’s why I won’t abandon these people.” 

The Director approached me, gesturing for Blake to leave. “Blake, do you mind giving us a second? Agent Avesta and I have some unfinished business we need to discuss.”

A look of concern spread across Blake’s face, and he was clearly uncomfortable with separating from me, but complied regardless. He headed for the exit. “...o-of course, Director.”

Saying a silent goodbye to me, Blake swiftly made his way out the office’s door and shut it behind him, leaving me alone with Waller as my heart hammered in fear. Had I done something else to upset her? Maybe she thought I helped Bruce escape. Shit, she didn’t think I was working with him, did she? Well, whatever it was, the Director didn’t look pleased. 

She glared at me, letting out a sigh. I braced myself for what was about to come.

“...I owe you an apology.” Waller said.

I was quiet in response, a bit surprised at the statement.

“A-An apology...?” I questioned. 

“I know it’s been one hell of a morning, and everyone’s minds are a bit fried, but it wasn’t too long ago that I accused you of stealing Bruce’s body behind my back. Turns out Jacob was telling the truth all along. I should’ve listened to him, and I shouldn’t have doubted you so easily. I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t deny that it was satisfying to see the Director finally admit she was wrong, but I hated that this was how it had to happen. I smiled at her, accepting the apology.

“Thank you, ma’am. Though, I don’t blame you for suspecting me. A dead man coming back to life and breaking out of the morgue...it’s not exactly a story you hear everyday. Your theory would’ve been far more plausible. However, I will say I’m surprised you didn’t expose Bruce. You know, back when he said he killed Batman.”

Waller crossed her arms. “What, you think it’d be better if I told the civilians Bruce was Batman?”

“Well, when you put it that way...maybe not.”

“Batman himself may not be dead, but the idea of him certainly is. I’m afraid Bruce was right about that. And as if things weren’t bad enough, Joker’s men got in on the action as well. I’m sure you saw those clowns running through the plaza, gunning people down. I don’t know if they’re working together, or if Joker was there by coincidence, but the Agency must be extra careful now. The Penguin, Two-Face, Lady Arkham, Bane, Harley Quinn, Victor Fries...all of these criminals combined wouldn’t even come close to being as dangerous as Lazarus.”

I quirked a brow. “What do you mean by that?” Waller paced around the office in a thoughtful manner.

“Think about it, every single one of these people had a desire. Penguin wanted people to start telling the truth, Two-Face wanted to keep Gotham safe, Lady Arkham wanted revenge against Thomas Wayne, Bane and Harley wanted the serum, and Fries simply wanted to cure his wife. Lazarus, on the other hand...there’s nothing we can give him that might convince him to stop. Gotham’s destruction is his desire. He won’t rest until this city is a pile of ash, and I doubt he’d care if he went down with it. Don’t you understand, Avesta? Bruce is no longer infected with a virus. He is the virus.”

Waller peered at me with curiosity when I said nothing in return, her glasses shimmering in the light.

“Something on your mind, agent?” She asked. I hesitated.

“I was just thinking, if we’re going to fight both Lazarus and the Joker, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to...to reinstate Gordon as commissioner. He knows this city better than anyone else, and in times like these, we need the extra strength.”

The Director obviously didn’t approve of the suggestion, but agreed nonetheless.

“As much as I hate to admit it, you have a point.” She thought for a moment, weighing her options. “...very well. I’ll bring Gordon back into the fold. He and I may have our differences, but we can’t afford to let our arguments get in the way of Gotham’s safety. This city needs him. It needs both of us. And Batman certainly isn’t coming to save the day this time. All right. I’ll let Gordon know of his reinstatement immediately. Meanwhile, I want you to find Blake and Harrison. I’ve assigned them with the task of finding clues that may lead us to Lazarus, and seeing as how you knew him best, I think you should help out.”

“Right away, Director.”

“Good. And stay safe, Avesta. Things are only going to get harder from here on out. It’s important that we keep our eyes peeled, and our senses aware. Gotham has a habit of taking you by surprise. Do not let your guard down.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Roaming through the halls of GCPD, I wandered past my fellow agents and other police officers in search of Blake or Harrison, ready to get to work. Every minute I spent standing idly by made me itch with eagerness, and I felt less than powerless knowing there was nothing I could do for the Lotus victims. 

The chances of anyone else surviving were close to nonexistent, and if we did find ourselves dealing with another Lazarus, I only hoped the Agency wouldn’t repeat its past mistakes, and put them out of their misery before they lost their mind. Unlike Bruce.

Thinking back to when we first found him at Wayne Enterprises, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for the whole incident. I knew, deep down, that it wasn’t my fault what happened to him, but part of me couldn’t stop wondering how things would’ve turned out if I’d only pulled the damned trigger. Sure, Bruce would’ve died, but at least the Agency wouldn’t have had an excuse to keep him as their personal guinea pig. He endured a world of pain simply because I was too much of a coward to kill him, and now, Gotham was paying the price. I was just glad his butler didn’t stay to witness it.

I still remembered checking up on Bruce while he was in the lab. Most of the time, he was unconscious and not even aware of my presence, but just...seeing him there made my heart heavy. The doctors had restrained him to a bed and sliced him open as if he were a frog prepared for dissection, leaving his body scarred and disfigured. When Bruce finally died, we all just assumed he wasn’t able to take the surgeries any longer -- and more importantly -- that he was gone for good. As horrible as it sounded, I wished that had actually been the case.

Pushing my solemn memories away for the moment, I glanced ahead and saw Blake patiently waiting by one of the exits, his back facing towards me as he fiddled with a tablet and leaned against a wall. I tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Blake,” I greeted. “Waller told me to come find you and Harrison. She said we’re supposed to be searching for clues that could lead us to Lazarus.”

He put the tablet away, straightening his suit. “Well then, good job, agent.” 

Turning around, he revealed an all-too-familiar blistered face.

“Looks like you’ve already succeeded.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Waller’s POV

GCPD, ROOFTOP

Examining the badge that rested in my palm, Gordon took a casual sip from his coffee cup and gave me a suspicious look, unsure of my motives.

“What’s this?” He asked, his tone gruff as always.

“The Commissioner’s badge,” I answered bluntly. “I hope you haven’t forgotten already. After all, you haven’t been off-duty for that long.”

He let out an amused scoff, rephrasing his question. “Maybe I should’ve been more clear. Why are you showing me this, is what I meant. If I recall correctly, the last time we met, you were taking this thing away from me.”

I held back my personal annoyance, letting out a breath. 

“A mistake, I admit. But after all the chaos that’s ensued this morning, I can see now that Gotham needs you. I don’t say this often...but I was wrong to dismiss you. The GCPD needs its Commissioner back. It just isn’t the same without you, and we can’t fight this war alone. Will you accept?”

Slowly taking the badge from my hand, Gordon looked at it as if it were an old friend he missed, contemplating the decision for a minute. He tightened his grip on the ornament.

“...of course I accept,” he said with absolute certainty. “Gotham’s my home. I’ll do anything for it...even if it means working with you. But just tell me one thing.”

I lifted my head in a curious manner. “And what would that be?”

“...I saw the whole address on the news,” he explained. “Heard every syllable of the nonsense Bruce Wayne spewed while he was on stage. Most of it didn’t phase me, but...there was one thing that concerned me. Is it true, what he said? Is Batman...is Batman really...dead...? Did he actually kill him? I...I need to know.”

The question hit me like a truck, and despite how much I wanted to tell him the truth about Bruce’s identity, I just didn’t have the heart to deliver news as tragic as this. Even if Gordon and I weren’t friends, I knew he and Batman definitely were. I decided to keep it a secret for now. 

“We don’t know if he’s alive,” I said, careful not to send him into a rampage, “but we haven’t found any evidence confirming he’s dead either. So there’s a chance Batman’s still out there.”

Gordon seemed somewhat relieved at that. “Christ, I sure hope he is. It’s just -- Wayne is right, you know? Batman hasn’t responded to any of my calls over the past few days, and according to Montoya, the GCPD hasn’t heard a word from him either. It’s like he’s vanished. The guy doesn’t exactly stand out, mind you, but it’s unlike him to stay quiet for so long -- especially with this much crime on the streets. I just find it hard to believe that someone like Bruce Wayne would be able to take him out. I guess the ‘billionaire playboy’ is more capable than he looks.”

I almost laughed at that statement. “You have no idea. But I promise, if the Agency learns anything about Batman’s whereabouts, you’ll be the first to know.”

The sharpness in Gordon’s expression disappeared, and he gazed at me in an appreciative way.

“...thank you, Waller. I wasn’t so sure about Batman in the beginning, but lemme tell you -- he’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to this godforsaken city, and I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise. We need him if we’re going to win this battle.”

Before I could say anything else, my phone suddenly buzzed with a new message, instantly grabbing my attention. I slipped the device out of my pocket and hurriedly unlocked it, eager to see if any of the agents had learned something. But instead, all I got was an ominous looking video...sent from Bruce Wayne. What did that lunatic want now?

“Speak of the devil. I just got a message from Wayne,” I told Gordon. “It’s a video...and it doesn’t look good.”

The Commissioner walked over to my side, watching the short clip along with me. “Play it.”

Starting the recording, I saw a hooded victim tied up in the middle of a dark room, their body limp and unresponsive as they slouched in a chair. They were either dead or unconscious, but I didn’t see any blood, so with luck, they fell into the latter.

Gliding into the shot, Bruce’s damaged face suddenly came into view, causing the camera to shake slightly as he picked his phone up.

“Sending your agents to come looking for me immediately after an attack,” he mocked. “Predictable as always, Director. Not that I’m complaining. It makes my job a whole lot easier. So, in return, I’ve decided to make yours easier as well...and a tad more interesting.”

He brought the camera close to the victim’s face and yanked the hood off, revealing none other than Agent Avesta. There was a significant bruise on her head -- probably from when he knocked her out -- and it appeared as if Bruce had removed her hearing aids.

“Listen very closely, Waller,” Bruce instructed. “I’m giving you precisely one hour to locate me and Avesta. Otherwise,” he aimed a gun directly under her jaw, “I’ll put a bullet in her pretty, little skull...and we both know you can’t let that happen. Though, I suppose I can be somewhat forgiving with the time. I know how bad the traffic can get in Gotham. Also, I’d bring a body bag with you -- just in case. I’d hate for you to have to carry all the pieces back home by hand.”

Gordon shook his head. “Pfft. What a piece of garbage.”

“So, what’s the big, bad Director going to do?” Bruce taunted. “Is she going to waste time searching for one of her ‘expendable’ agents? Or is she going to focus on the real problem, and find my bombs? I’d hurry up and make a decision if I were you, Waller. The clock is ticking. Even if you get Avesta back in time, it doesn’t necessarily mean you'll get her back unharmed. Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

The video ended there, leaving me and Gordon with nothing but our thoughts. I practically hissed in frustration, shoving the phone back in my pocket.

“That son of a bitch,” I whispered through gritted teeth. “How did he get to Avesta so quickly? How did he even know where to find her?”

Gordon’s eyes widened with an unpleasant realization. “...wait a minute. The GCPD’s officers, the station -- they use Wayne Tech. All of our security cameras, all of our weapons, all of our radios...they belong to Bruce. He must’ve tuned in somehow. He can hear everything we’re saying, and see everything we do. The man literally has eyes and ears all over the precinct!”

“Dammit,” I cursed. “That’s most-likely how he tracked Avesta down. Question is, what does he want with her?”

“We’ll worry about that later. Right now, we just need to focus on fetching your agent. Though, if I’m being honest, this whole situation sounds like a trap.”

I nodded. “I agree. But we can’t risk Avesta’s life. If we want to rescue her, we’ll have to play along with his game. Any ideas on where we should start?”

Gordon stroked his mustache in thought. “The basement Bruce was recording in...it looked oddly familiar. My gut tells me he’s at Riddler’s water tower, over in the East-End. I recognize it from when I investigated it with Batman. Though, Bruce is in a part of it I haven’t seen yet. I didn’t even know there were more parts.”

“Then that’s where we’ll go. I won’t lie, Commissioner. I don’t like the idea that Bruce is making use of Riddler’s old toys. That worries me.”

“Hmph, you and me both.”

I headed for the stairwell. “We should get to work. Avesta’s life is on the line, and without her, this fight will become significantly harder. Trust me, we need her skills. And her knowledge.”

Gordon followed me as the two of us walked side-by-side into the station, ready to find Lazarus and put an end to his sick game.

“I’m right behind you.”


	8. A Familiar Face

From John’s POV

THE FUNHOUSE

Gently tying the cloth around the doll’s squishy head, I held the toy out in front of me and admired my work, pleased with the modifications I made. Even though Bruce’s face was covered in scars now, and one of his eyes was damaged, that didn’t make me love the man any less. In fact, the vicious nature of his blemishes only drew me to him more, and I couldn’t help but feel like his flaws just made him more perfect. It was impossible to diminish that Wayne charm, wasn’t it?

“All...done!” I cheered to myself as I wiped my hands clean, putting the doll back in its place. “Don’t worry, Brucie. Others might be scared of the way you look now, but you’ll always be super handsome in my eyes. No judgements between best buddies. And besides, for a dead guy, you don’t look too shabby. Though...I would prefer to see your actual face. In person. Instead of talking to a toy.”

I groaned in frustration, glaring at the doll. “Ugh, why are you hiding from me? Is it because you’re afraid I won’t love you in return since I’m with Harley? I mean...I can’t deny that I have feelings for the woman, but no one cares about me the way you do, Brucie. Harley’s never gotten me a present, y’know. I’m always the one giving things to her, trying to make her happy...but it’s never enough! All she goes on and on about, all day long, is that goddamn serum!”

Calming down a bit, I caressed the doll’s cheek with a delicate finger. “...You though...we’re not even a couple yet, and you’ve already bought me a gift. I don’t know when you were planning to give it to me, but the music box is lovely, Brucie. It really is. And that melody...”

I clapped my hands together, swooning at the sound of the music box’s eerie chimes. 

“It’s so enchantingly morose...and dark. It sings like an angel calling you to your grave, and beckons you like a lantern flickering in the distant fog. But it also hides behind a merry tempo, making sure its notes hit fast enough to distract you from the silence in between. It almost reminds me of you, Bruce. And that’s exactly why I love you. I just wish you’d admit to your feelings already. I know the brooding billionaire isn’t very fond of discussing relationships, but we need to talk about where ours is going. There are some messes that even I can’t stand not cleaning up. All you need to do...is come out of the shadows.”

Abruptly interrupting my conversation with Bruce, the door to my office slammed open, revealing a frantic Frank standing behind it. He noticed the changes I had made to the doll and eyeballed it for a second, coaxing a proud chuckle out of me.

“Handsome, isn’t he?” I commented. “Such a dapper boy, if a bit deranged. But that can be forgiven...hehe!”

Frank glanced around the office sheepishly, almost as if looking for an escape from the awkwardness.

“Uhh...yeeeaaah, sure. Anyway, speakin’ of Bruce, our men have sent reports that some agents are headed for the East End. To Riddler’s old water tower. They think they’ll find Bruce hiding there.”

I rubbed my chin. “Is that so...? Hmm, then we’d best get there before them. I hate to hurt him, but Bruce is the only known, living survivor of Lotus, and Harley’s been getting antsy over that serum lately. We need his blood. And I need to talk to him about...stuff.”

“I thought we were gonna kill him.”

I frowned at Frank. “I already told you, we’re not killing him just yet. First, we get to play with him a little bit. Y’know, throw some punches at him. Stab him a few times. Psychologically torture him...you don’t wanna spoil the fun, do you?”

“...n-no, boss.”

I grinned, delighted at the answer. “That’s what I thought. Anyways, find Willy and meet me by the car. If we’re going to catch that dapper boy, now’s our chance to do it.”

“Should I get Harley, too?”

I paused for a second, thinking of something to say. If I was being perfectly honest, I didn’t want Harley to come along, but I knew she’d strangle me if I left her out of a job. I quickly came up with an excuse.

“Um, she...she can stay here,” I stuttered. “F-For safety reasons. After all, Bruce is known to fight dirty, and I just don’t want her to get hurt.”

Frank almost looked offended. “What about me and Willy?”

I grabbed my gun and equipped a gas mask, heading out the door. “I’m not in love with you two. Now, if you’re done asking questions, hurry up and get ready. We can’t let the Agency get to Bruce before us. Chances are if they find him, they’ll kill him and throw his body in a freezer like they did Riddler, and we kinda need his blood. So stop dilly-dallying and fetch Willy! Time...is of the essence.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Blake’s POV

EAST END

Observing the outside of the water tower, I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself, worried sick about what Lazarus might’ve done to Iman while we were searching for her. Ever since the Director received that video from Bruce, we hadn’t heard any other updates about Avesta’s status, and just thinking about what she could’ve been going through made my insides churn. If Bruce dared to lay a single finger on her, there was going to be hell to pay.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Agents Fox and Harrison arriving at the scene, both of them wearing gas masks. There was a good chance Lazarus would have more Lotus bombs hidden inside, and the last thing we needed today was to deal with more of those mutated creatures. I strapped my own mask on, making sure it was secure.

“So this is it, huh?” Harrison said, gazing at the tower. “I gotta say, I thought Lazarus would choose somewhere more...discreet. This almost feels like he wants us to find him.”

“That’s because he does,” Tiffany snapped back. “Trust me, I know Bruce. If he really wanted to fly under the Agency’s radar, he wouldn’t make a move as bold as this. Then again, I guess I never knew him as well as I thought.”

Harrison and I blankly stared at her for a moment, leading Tiffany to apologize.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so stern. It’s just...it’s hard for me to watch Bruce become Lazarus. He’s almost like an older brother to me...and what he did back at the address -- I won’t lie. It kinda scared the hell out of me.”

“You and everyone else,” Harrison replied. “Even under Lotus’ influence, I never thought someone like Bruce Wayne would be capable of committing these types of crimes. People always talked about him as if he were some clueless rich boy who did nothing but party.”

I scoffed. “Well, evidently, people were wrong.” I let out a sigh, glancing down the empty street. “...Maybe we should’ve listened to Gordon. He tried to arrest Wayne not too long ago, but Waller intervened before he could throw him in a cell. Turns out the Commissioner was on the right track all along. Though, I don’t blame Waller for not seeing this coming. It’s not exactly a regular occurrence for the dead to wake up. ...Anyways, we’ll continue this some other time. Right now, all that matters is Avesta, and every minute we waste, she gets hurt. Let’s go.”

Tiffany activated her drones. “Ready when you are.”

~~~~~~~~~~

RIDDLER’S WATER TOWER

Steadily descending the ladder into the tower, I hopped down and immediately brandished my pistol, prepared to fire in case Lazarus tried to take me by surprise. Instead though, all that greeted me was a dark, empty room full of safes, broken TV’s, and a number of blood stains on the metal floor. I didn’t see any sign of Avesta or Lazarus, and it looked like no one had set foot in here for months. Did he trick us? Did we get the wrong place? What was going on? I decided to take it slow for the moment, and started investigating the area.

“You see anything down there?” Harrison called from above as he and Tiffany followed.

“No,” I said back. “It almost looks...abandoned. And Avesta isn’t here either.”

“Dammit. Well, just keep searching. There’s gotta be something we can go off of.”

“...I sure hope so.”

Venturing deeper into the tower, I saw a collection of Riddler’s infamous death chambers resting in a corner, and it appeared as if dust was actually starting to gather on them. There was no way this could be the right location. Bruce sent the video this morning, and yet, it looked like no one had been here for ages. 

Then again, Gordon did say he was in an area of the tower he’d never seen before. Perhaps it was hidden. The only question was: where? I turned to Tiffany, who had just gotten to the bottom of the ladder.

“Hey Tiffany, I think Lazarus might have hidden Avesta somewhere in here. Think your drone could snoop around for any secret rooms?”

“On it.”

With a few simple taps on her device, Tiffany commanded the drone to tag along as it scanned the walls and floors, keeping an eye out for anything out of place. It glided over to the center of the room and hovered above what looked like a pressure plate, examining the floor with its camera. I followed its lead, observing the unusual floor tile.

“The drone’s found something underneath us,” Tiffany announced. “It’s a...secret lab, I guess you could say. There are multiple energy readings as well as some heat signatures down there, which could either just be from the machinery, or...”

“...Avesta,” I finished. “She’s gotta be down there. Where else would Bruce keep her? You think this pressure plate could open an entrance?”

Harrison shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt to try. Except it might.”

I took my weapon out, bracing myself for whatever was below us. “I’ll go first,” I said. “Make sure it’s safe.”

“Be careful.” Tiffany warned, her voice gentler than before. “We don’t know how deep this thing goes. If anything malfunctions down there, it could take us a while to get you back up.”

I nodded. “Got it.”

Taking a moment to ready myself, I slowly pressed a foot on the plate and firmly held it there, triggering a section of the floor to suddenly drop about an inch with a violent jolt. I wobbled for a second before losing balance and falling over, causing Harrison to run to my side.

“Blake!” He exclaimed.

“I’m all right!” I reassured quickly, holding a hand out. “I’m all right. Just took me by surprise, is all. It’s going smoother now. Just stay put.”

Pushing myself off the floor, I stood up and gazed towards the ceiling as the secret lift continued to lower itself, delivering me to the pitch-black abyss underneath. The elevator had already sunk much deeper than I was expecting it to, and with every meter it fell, the more I began to regret coming here in the first place. 

Lazarus had already shown his fondness for trapping people back at City Hall, what with shutting down all the security gates, and I didn’t know what I was going to do if I got stuck in this secret lab. At least Tiffany and Harrison were still in the open. If anything happened to me, they could just call for help. I only prayed that I wouldn’t need it.

Finally slowing down to a halt, the lift stopped in the same lab Tiffany described before, only this room looked just as abandoned as the one above. There was barely any light in here, except for a giant, flickering computer monitor, and neither Lazarus nor Avesta were anywhere to be seen. I hesitantly stepped off the elevator, observing my surroundings.

“Iman?” I said, “Are you here?”

To my surprise, I actually got a response.

“...p-please...” someone begged, “....d-don’t. I...I know you’re there. Please, j-just leave me alone...!”

Whirling around at the feeble voice, I felt my heart stop when I spotted a woman struggling in a chair not too far away from me, sitting in the shadows. Her head was aimed downwards, hiding her face from view, and she had been restrained with rope. I bolted over to her, putting my gun away.

“Oh my god,” I blurted out, “Avesta!”

Laying a comforting hand on both of her arms, I started to cut the rope as Iman flinched at my touch.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s me, Blake. You’re safe now. Just try to relax. We’re gonna get you out of here.”

She leaned away from me. “Haven’t you done enough...?! Please, just go away! I have nothing else you want!”

I gave her a puzzled look, confused at the whole situation. “What are you...Iman, it’s me! Blake! The Agency’s here. We’ve come to rescue you--”

Before I could talk with Avesta any further, an electronic blast erupted throughout the tower, deactivating the elevator along with all our guns. Now, there was no way for me to get back up, and I was too low for Tiffany and Harrison to jump down. I was stuck. Dammit!

A low, sinister chuckle emitted behind me, getting closer and closer with every word it hissed.

“You can scream all you want, agent. She won’t hear you, and neither will anyone else.”

Glancing over my shoulder, chills eerily brushed all over my skin as Lazarus himself emerged from hiding, his ice-cold eyes piercing through the darkness as he approached me like a ghost. 

He was no longer wearing the same suit or gloves as he did back at the address, and instead, he adorned a simple, white buttoned shirt as well as his signature bandana. In addition to that, there was a combat knife in his grip leaking with fresh blood, and the entirety of his hand was also stained red. 

I immediately whipped out my own knife, holding it out in a protective manner. The action only seemed to delight Bruce.

“You should see the look on your face,” he taunted, tracing a finger along the blade. “Too bad Avesta can’t.”

I stammered over my words. “...What--what are you--”

Examining Avesta’s wounded face again, I let out a gasp and jumped back in shock, causing my eyes to pop open when I suddenly realized...

...she was missing hers.

I threw a glare at Bruce, clenching my jaw. “What did you do to her?!”

“Was something in the video not clear?” He asked rhetorically. “I did warn you that she could get harmed. It’s not my fault you didn’t find her fast enough. Fortunately for you though, she is still alive. So, congrats for that, I suppose,” Bruce snickered, shaking his head. “...Not that it matters much.”

Bruce held up a finger. “However, I will say I’m surprised Waller actually sent someone to search for Avesta. It’s just...she always goes on and on about how ‘expendable’ her agents are, and yet, she can’t seem to let them go. Hmph. I guess we all have something we don’t want to admit we love. Even me.”

I scoffed, glowering at him. “A man like you wouldn’t know how to love.”

His glare intensified at that, and for just a split-second, I could’ve sworn I saw a flash of distress in his eyes. 

“On the contrary,” Bruce growled, raising his knife, “I wish I couldn’t.”

Charging at me like an angry bull, Bruce lunged in my direction and sliced a gash in my cheekbone, causing hot blood to run down my face as I circled around the madman, hoping to get a better angle on him. For a CEO, Bruce actually put up quite a fight, and I would’ve been lying if I said I didn’t think he might have a chance of winning, but I couldn’t afford to lose. Not now. Avesta’s life depended on me, and if I allowed Bruce to gain the upper hand, we would all die in here.

“What’s wrong, Blake?” He sneered, slamming me against a wall. “Not so tough without those fancy toys now, are you?”

I regained my breath and immediately jumped back into combat, aiming for Bruce’s neck. 

“You’re gonna pay for what you did to Iman!” 

He threw a punch at me and laughed, not appearing fatigued in the slightest.

“You can’t punish a dead man, Blake. Only the devil is capable of doing that...and even he sent me back. What makes you think the Agency has a chance?”

Snatching me by the collar, Bruce lifted me into the air with a surprising amount of ease and brought me close to his face, staring directly into my eyes. It looked like the infection had spread a bit more across his skin, and the closer I examined him, the more I could see the raging veins underneath. It only made me wonder what kind of scars were hiding below the bandana, and I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to find out.

Tightening his grip, Bruce began to squeeze the life out of me as he strangled my throat, practically trying to pop my head off. I desperately clawed at his hands and attempted to pry them off, but to no avail. He chuckled, amused by my helplessness.

“You Agency pigs should’ve left Gotham when you had the chance. Spare the city a whole lot of trouble, including myself. Be a good boy and save a spot in hell for me, would you?”

The edges of my vision started to grow dark, and I could feel my lungs burning with a thirst for oxygen. No matter how hard I yanked at his arms, Bruce’s hold only seemed to strengthen, and the more I struggled, the more he thrived. It was like trying to put out a fire by fanning the flames, and I didn’t have any have any water to extinguish it.

Coming to the rescue though, a bullet suddenly thundered from out of nowhere and planted itself right into Bruce’s shoulder, causing him to groan in agony and drop me to the floor. I hungrily drank the air and took a series of deep breaths, clutching my neck while the other man reeled in pain, frantically searching for the source of the shot.

“What the--?!” Bruce exclaimed, but it was too late. Before he had a chance to gather his senses, I took the opening and threw a skin-rippling uppercut at him, knocking the man out instantly. He collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud as the knife slid away from his grasp, lightly tapping against the metal wall and crowning me the victor.

Wasting no time, I hurriedly limped over to the EMP generator and shut it off before anything else, reactivating all the electronics around us, including the lights. 

“Blake!” Harrison yelled down the lift’s tunnel, echoing in the space. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” I answered. “It’s Avesta we need to worry about.”

“What’s wrong with her? Never mind, just get both her and Lazarus up here, and we’ll bring them back to GCPD. Tiffany and I will meet you outside.”

“Got it.”

Digging through Bruce’s pockets, I found Avesta’s hearing-aids and wobbled over to her, completely cutting her loose this time. For a moment, she only sat there, still in shock, and waited for something else to happen before attempting to stand up.

“Easy, easy...” I said mainly to myself, “let me put these in first.”

Softly holding her head in place, I slipped the hearing-aids back into Iman’s ears and turned them on, afterwards helping her up from the chair.

“Avesta,” I said, “can you hear me?”

Relief washed over her terrified expression. “...B-Blake...? Is that you?”

“Yes. The Agency’s here. We’ve come to bring you home. You’re safe now.”

Avesta let out a shaky breath, nearly on the verge of tears. “...oh, thank god. G-Get me out of here, please. I don’t want to spend another second in this tower...”

“Don’t worry,” I comforted Iman, pulling her into a hug. “We’re gonna get you somewhere secure. I won’t let Lazarus lay a finger on you ever again. I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~

EAST END

Guiding Avesta into the ambulance, Tiffany took a seat next to her as they drove to the hospital together, leaving me alone with Harrison while we loaded a handcuffed Bruce into the Agency vehicle, standing under the sprinkle of rain.

“He roughed you up quite a bit, huh?” Harrison commented, looking over me. “Not bad for a CEO.”

“Believe me, I was surprised too. I only wish I could’ve stopped him sooner. Poor Iman...she doesn’t deserve this.”

Harrison sighed solemnly. “Hey, it’s not your fault. Bruce is the one who hurt her. Not you.”

“I just don’t understand what Bruce has against her,” I snapped, dragging a hand down my face. “Waller, I get...but Avesta? She’s been nothing but nice to him all this time. Why would he want to harm her? I suppose it could just be Lotus driving him mad. Bruce probably doesn’t care who he hurts, so long as he’s hurting someone. Anyways, thanks for your help during the fight. I could’ve died otherwise.”

Harrison quirked a brow. “I didn’t do anything.”

I tilted my head in confusion. “What do you mean? You didn’t shoot Bruce? Then who did?”

He gestured off to the side, bringing my attention to a man I hadn’t even noticed was standing there until now. The man was wearing a suit and appeared much older than I was expecting, holding a hunting rifle in his grasp.

“He showed up in the middle of the fight,” Harrison explained. “Insisted that we let him intervene -- and seeing as how he was the only one with a functioning gun, we weren’t really in any position to refuse.”

The old man eloquently approached me, straightening his tie as he prepared to introduce himself.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” he said, “but I couldn’t just stand idly by and not assist.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I replied. “Your assistance saved my life. I’m Agent Blake, and you are...?”

He adjusted his glasses, smiling at me.

“Alfred Pennyworth, at your service.”


	9. Hanging by a Thread

From Waller’s POV

GCPD, COMMISSIONER’S OFFICE

“Any updates on Wayne or your agents?” Gordon asked, taking a sip of coffee. The man was finally back in his usual uniform, and the commissioner’s badge shone ever so brightly on the fabric of his coat as the steam from his mug fogged his glasses.

“They found Avesta,” I replied grimly, “but she’s been severely injured -- blinded by Wayne, apparently. As for the man himself, two of my agents are bringing him back for interrogation as we speak. I believe they just arrived, in fact.”

“Good. That bastard needs to answer for what he’s done.” the Commissioner scoffed. “Heh, bet he doesn’t feel so clever now. That’s the problem with most of these freaks. They’re too arrogant -- makes it inevitable for them to screw up eventually. Batman told me that when Riddler first attacked the Virago. I guess he was right.”

The urge to reveal the truth nearly took control of me again, and I felt terrible keeping such a secret from Gordon, but I held back and carried on the conversation, furrowing my brow in thought. 

“Perhaps, but I can’t shake the feeling that this could all be a trap. Wayne practically invited us to capture him with that video, and Riddler’s water tower isn’t exactly a secret location anymore. Why would he make such a blatant move in broad daylight? Especially with the Agency and police on his tail? The only logical explanation is that he wanted us to bring him here. Either that, or he’s really just that stupid.”

Gordon tugged at his collar, not quite used to the nicotine patch yet. “Sadly, I doubt it. I’ve done research on Wayne in the past, and trust me -- the man’s much smarter than he looks.”

A third, strangely familiar voice joined in. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Curious to see who had walked in, I had to look twice when I found Agent Harrison standing next to Bruce’s old butler, Alfred, acting as if everything was perfectly normal. I gaped at him for a moment, thrown off-guard by the sudden appearance.

“...Alfred Pennyworth?” I said, glancing at Harrison for answers.

“He showed up at the water tower during our mission,” Harrison quickly replied. “Saved Blake’s life too, in fact. He’s the only reason we managed to capture Lazarus.”

I shook hands with the butler, beaming at him. “Then I owe you my thanks. Speaking of Blake, where is he?”

The agent gestured outside. “He’s taking Bruce to the interrogation room right now.”

“Great. Then I’ll head there immediately. Gordon, I’m gonna need your help with this one. I get the feeling Wayne isn’t going to give in so easily, and I’d like to have company in case the man snaps.”

Alfred stopped me. “Err -- actually, if you don’t mind, Director, I’d like to have a word with you first. Alone.”

I halted in my tracks, eager to hear what the butler had to say. “...Very well. I can spare a few minutes. Gordon, Harrison -- give us a moment, would you?”

“Of course, ma’am.” Harrison said, promptly heading out the exit as Gordon grabbed his mug and followed him. Before shutting the door, the Commissioner turned around to say one last thing.

“I’ll meet you at the interrogation room, Waller. Just lemme know when you’re ready.”

I gave him a firm nod. “Will do.”

Taking his leave, Gordon disappeared from sight while Alfred set his hunting rifle down -- as one does -- and looked at me, clearly heartbroken over what was happening. I decided to broach the subject in a more delicate manner, softening my tone.

“Forgive me for being blunt, Mr. Pennyworth, but if I recall correctly -- didn’t you leave Gotham?”

Alfred placed his hands behind his back, straightening his posture. “I did, yes.”

“What brought you back?”

The butler took a second to answer. “Well, Bruce, mainly. But also Tiffany.”

I was a bit surprised at the response. “Tiffany? You mean Agent Fox?”

“Yes, she contacted me whilst I was away, you see. Kept me updated on everything that was occurring in Gotham, including Bruce’s battle with Lotus. She informed me of every single step: Bruce’s infection, his death...” Alfred’s voice faltered slightly on that word, “and now, his resurrection. At first, I intended to stay far away from this city, but after hearing about all the heinous things Bruce has done...”

He took a calming breath, subtly clenching his fist. “...I just couldn’t ignore it. As much as it pains me to be back, Bruce is my son, Director. And I’m not a coward -- at least, I don’t want to be. Not anymore. It’s my job, as a father and a friend, to stop Bruce’s reign of terror. If you’ll allow me to help, I would gladly lend a hand.”

“I appreciate the assistance,” I told him, “but you don’t have to do this. I imagine it’s hard enough to watch Bruce lose his mind. I won’t force you to fight your own family as well.”

Alfred persisted. “No one’s forcing anybody. Consider accepting my help as repayment for saving your agent’s life.”

“About that,” I pointed out, “how did you find my agents?”

He walked me through the process like it was nothing. “To be frank, I was actually searching for Bruce originally. I pinpointed his location at the water tower using the Batcomputer, and once I heard that one of your agents had gone missing -- I put two and two together. Something was clearly wrong, so I jumped in to help.”

I chuckled. “I can certainly see where Bruce gets his skills from. I kind of wish he had less. Well...all right. If you’re sure about it, both the Agency and the GCPD would happily welcome your aid.”

“I am.”

I flashed a smile. “Then it’s settled. If we ever have a problem we need solving that requires your expertise, you’ll be the first one to know.”

Alfred returned the smile. “Thank you, Director. The last thing I want for Bruce is to be locked away in a padded cell, but I can’t bear to watch anymore people get hurt, or see Bruce betray his code.”

“...You heard what he said at the address?” I asked.

“About killing Batman? I did.” Alfred’s head drooped in sorrow, staring at the floor. “...I won’t lie, Director. This war against ‘Lazarus’ is going to be a punishing one, indeed. Much like yourself, Bruce is a powerful ally, and an even more dangerous enemy. If we want to avoid anymore death, we’ll have to finish this as quickly as possible.”

Wandering over to the door, I opened it and gestured for Alfred to follow, taking him to Bruce. “Then let’s head down and speak to Lazarus himself. I imagine he has a thing or two to say.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Bruce’s POV

Fluttering my eyes open, I found myself sitting in what appeared to be an Agency vehicle, and I could feel handcuffs scraping at my wrists. The car was currently stopped in front of GCPD, and leading up all the way to the front door, I saw police officers patrolling the area around it, ready to detain me in case I tried to bolt. Little did they know, the only reason they managed to capture me in the first place...was because I let them.

Disturbing the silence, an agent suddenly yanked the car’s door open and ordered me to get out, their tone rough with rage. It was Agent Blake. I smirked at him, calmly stepping out of the vehicle.

“Such a gentleman.”

Blake’s expression flattened with annoyance as he firmly held onto my arm, guiding me to the police station. 

“And here I was hoping you’d invoke your right to silence.”

“No,” I said dramatically, “...I’ve been silent for far too long.”

Shoving me up the short staircase that led into the precinct, Blake dragged me through the double-doors and practically hurled me inside, grabbing the attention of all the other police officers as I was taken to the interrogation room.

All throughout the corridor, cops and agents alike both glared at me with despair in their eyes, almost as if asking me “why.” Some of them even refused to look at me, and as I was paraded through the halls, I could feel their intense gazes nailing onto my back. I glanced at Blake, whispering something in his ear.

“Well done, Blake. You’ve captured the most wanted man in Gotham on the very same day he earned that title. You must be proud.”

He grimaced. “This has nothing to do with pride, Lazarus. I’m just making sure you get the justice you deserve.”

I chuckled at that, afterwards letting out a disappointed sigh. 

“Oh...you remind me of myself, not too long ago. A little boy who was naive enough to believe the world would reward him for his good deeds. Instead though, all he got in return was betrayal.”

Blake said nothing in return, and so I continued. 

“It’s remarkable, how fast people can change, isn’t it...? Just yesterday, your beautiful Avesta was able to see all the light in the world, no matter how much the shadows threatened to consume it. Now though...she sees nothing but shadows. And her last memory of the world will forever be me, holding a knife up to her face as she begs for mercy. Tell me, how does that make you feel, Blake?”

“Just shut up!” He demanded in a hushed tone. “You’re lucky the Director wanted you alive. Otherwise, you'd be in a body bag by now.”

I gave him a warning look, refraining myself from smiling. “Careful, Blake. That fire inside you...it’s the same one I carry. Fan it too much, and you might hurt yourself.”

He shook his head. “You and I are nothing alike.”

“No?” I questioned. “Whether a flame is red or blue, it still burns, doesn’t it? I keep telling you people, that’s the universe playing with us. It manipulates you into thinking that just because you act with the law, it means everything you do is for the greater good. Why don’t you keep that in mind, the next time you kill a man who fights for the same reason. You’d be surprised how much different types of people have in common.”

~~~~~~~~~~

INTERROGATION ROOM

Waiting in the dimly lit room, I remained handcuffed in a metal chair as distant footsteps approached from down the hall, heading in my direction. This was the same room where Montoya was interrogated after killing Falcone a year ago, and I couldn’t deny that my heart ached slightly at the thought of Harvey.

Mayor Dent was just another prime example of me giving everything to this city, and then having it thrown back in my face as a reward. I supported his campaign to reshape Gotham for the better, fought against corrupt pigs like Hill, and even helped him with his personal life, only to watch my friend lose his mind and end up in Arkham Asylum. 

I guessed the same thing was happening to me now. Except this time, I wouldn’t rot away in some dark cell. Either Gotham would burn to the ground by my hand, or I would burn with it.

Slamming the doors open, Waller suddenly marched into the room alongside Gordon while some other agents gathered behind a window on the wall, observing the interrogation. Among them, I spotted Agents Blake, Harrison, and--

...No, I thought to myself. It was impossible. Was that...was that Alfred? What was that traitor doing here? When did he even return? 

Wait a minute. During my fight with Blake, I remembered someone shooting me...but the bullet didn’t come from an Agency pistol, did it? No, it must’ve been from a rifle. 

A pang of realization hit me. 

Alfred was the one who shot me, wasn’t he? Not only did that bastard abandon me, he had come back to finish the job. Well, the old man certainly had guts -- I’d give him that -- but he was going to regret ever setting foot in Gotham again. I remembered every crime committed against me, and I certainly hadn’t forgotten his. Batman may have been dead, but that didn’t mean justice was.

Pretending not to see Alfred for the moment, I focused my attention on Waller and Gordon, giving them a lazy grin as I relaxed in the chair.

“So, a couple hundred deaths is all it took to get you two working together, huh? About damn time. What’s the mustache doing here?”

“He’s been reinstated,” Waller said sternly, crossing her arms. “In other words, We’re no longer fighting by ourselves.”

I smirked. “Good to know. I like a bit of variety when it comes to my targets. You get bored of going after the same kinds of people. That’s why Batman will always be my most memorable kill.”

The color in Gordon’s face drained a little at that, and I could’ve sworn I saw him gulp.

“I know it’s difficult to process,” I said somberly. “Batman was actually a close friend of mine too, you know? I used to look up to the vigilante, in fact. Did everything I could to become like him, growing up. But it was never enough. The crime in Gotham was relentless, and Batman looked at it all wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” Gordon barked, sounding defensive.

A more vengeful mood took hold of me, and I glared at the Commissioner.

“Look around you, Gordon. There are no such things as heroes or villains in this city. There is no good or evil. Gotham...is the evil, and I’m doing the rest of the world a favor by wiping it off the goddamn map!”

“Enough!” Waller pounded her fist on the table, causing Gordon to back off a bit. “You mentioned you had bombs hidden all over the city earlier. Where are they? Where are you keeping them?”

A light chuckle escaped me. “Oh, but that defeats the whole point of the search, Director. You can’t just expect the world to hand you things for free. Hell, it hardly hands you anything even when you pay.”

Gordon scoffed. “As if a billionaire like you would know what it means to pay.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about money, Commissioner, but nice to see you’re still involved in the interrogation. For a moment there, I thought you were actually letting Waller take the wheel. Now wouldn’t that be a twist? But I suppose that wouldn’t be the only twist today, would it?”

Springing up from my chair, the sudden movement made Waller and Gordon jump as I lurked towards the window, staring straight through the glass and directly at Alfred with a deathly gaze.

“Isn’t that right...Alfred?” I snarled, almost sounding feral. “What, have you finally come back to fix your mistake?”

The butler gave me a melancholic look. “You are anything but a mistake, Bruce. You are my son.”

Taking a step backwards, I laughed at the statement.

“Your son? Pfft. I wasn’t aware that a father was supposed to abandon his child, but...you’re right, Al. You’re right. None of this is a mistake. All of this is meant to be...”

Stealthily slipping a Phalanx Key out of my back pocket, I positioned my finger over the button and spun around to face Waller, amused at her bewildered expression.

“I gave you the chance to leave Gotham without any bloodshed, Director, but you refused to take it. Now...you’ll pay the price. By tomorrow, this entire city will be under my control...and guess what? There’s shit you can do to stop it.”

Activating the key, an alarm instantly began to wail throughout the station as red lights flashed on the walls, alerting the officers of a security breach. Blake cursed from behind the window, obviously noticing what I had just done.

“Oh, shit!” 

Waller’s eyes practically bulged out their sockets.

“What is it?!” She yelled. “What just happened?”

“This was a trap!” Blake exclaimed. “He just unlocked Bane’s cell! He’s broken free!”

Listening closely through the door’s thick material, I could already hear Bane’s signature roar rumbling not too far away from me as the beast made a beeline for the interrogation room, ripping apart everything in his path. Panicked shrieks and agonized gurgles filled the corridors, and the havoc made my heart race with excitement.

“You know Bane’s favorite saying, Director,” I recited as the colossal man approached. “A man cannot win a war alone.”

Smashing the room’s doors down as if they were paper, Bane barged through the wall and sent debris flying everywhere, shattering the observation window with a sharp crack.

Gordon and Waller tried to put the monstrosity down on their own, but before they could even fire a shot, Bane had already flung them to the side like rag-dolls, hurling them against the walls just as he did to Batman.

“Perfect timing, Bane.” I praised him, remaining seated. He stomped over and tore my handcuffs apart with a single tug, setting me free. 

Stretching my arms and neck for a second, I reached down and snatched Gordon’s gun from his belt before sauntering towards the room’s exit with Bane, the two of us prowling outside to raise some hell as the alarms continued to blare.

“Let’s get to work.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From John’s POV

GCPD

“What’s that noise?” Willy asked me, peering through the car’s windshield. I shushed him, observing the police station.

“It’s an alarm, you idiot! It means something’s gone wrong. ...Wait, you don’t think it could be because of Bruce, do you? What if he already escaped on his own? I wouldn’t be surprised. That guy’s always two steps ahead.”

“Uhh, I think he did, boss,” Frank suggested, pointing at a peculiar man who was hijacking a car. “Either that, or that guy looks identical to Bruce.”

Following Frank’s line of sight, I squinted my eyes and examined the escapee’s face, instantly recognizing his marred skin and sleek, black hair. It looked like Bane was in his company, and the two of them were working together, but he didn’t join Bruce in the car. Instead, Bane fled in his own direction -- probably to divert the cops -- and his partner started the vehicle.

“IT’S HIM!” I shouted ecstatically, taking hold of the steering wheel and gearshift. “Hold on, fellas! This is about to be one heck of a ride! AHAHA!”

Flooring my foot on the gas, I sent the car soaring as Bruce took off like a bat out of hell, leaving skid marks behind him while a number of policemen attempted to keep up with his speed. There was no way I’d be able to catch Bruce for myself at this rate, and the cops were only going to be a hinderance for both of us.

Reaching behind me, I grabbed my machine gun and shoved it into Willy’s hands, pointing at the police cars.

“Goddamn cops...shoot them, Willy! Get ‘em off of Bruce’s tail! I’ll focus on catching up to him!”

Nearly levitating off the road, I avidly chased after Bruce like a homing missile and gradually gained on him, trying my best to corner him somehow as Willy fired at the cops. To help out a bit, I occasionally rammed the side of the vehicle against theirs, causing them to swerve into streetlights and buildings as civilians threw themselves out of the way.

“This better be worth it!” I groaned. “That was a beautiful paint job!”

Speeding up a little, I sent the car blazing over the street’s surface and mentally targeted Bruce with crosshairs, sliding opening the sun roof in advance.

“Whoa--” Frank blurted out, “--what’re you doin’, boss?!”

“Doing your job for you,” I retorted, taking out my grapple gun. “But don’t worry about me, kids. I learned from the best!”

Continuing to race after Bruce, I kept him in my sights while Willy finished off the last of the police, clearing the road for me. There were explosions blowing up left and right around us, and it looked like something you’d see in a movie. Despite all the damage we were dealing to my car though, I couldn’t help but be exhilarated by the pandemonium. It was the perfect type of mayhem, and the commotion only motivated me further.

“...Almost there...” I mumbled through bared teeth. With the cops gone, it was just me and Bruce now, zooming through Gotham’s streets like a pair of madmen as the distance closed between us. Though, I guessed that’s exactly what we were. 

“...Almost gotcha...”

Driving as fast as I could, the outside view flashed into a blur while I bolted by, closing in on Bruce. Our bumpers were nearly touching at this point, and up ahead, I saw a secluded alleyway coming into view. This was the perfect spot to confront him. I aimed the grapple gun upwards.

“...NOW!”

Slamming down on the brakes, I came to a screeching halt and ejected myself through the top like Batman, landing right onto the top of Bruce’s car. 

For a moment, the man swerved in confusion and poked his head out the window before noticing me, causing him to try and shake me off. I managed to latch on even with all the erratic movement for quite a while, and when Bruce realized I wasn’t going away, he drifted into a complete stop, slingshotting me forwards.

Crashing to the ground like an injured pigeon, I fell with a clumsy “oof!” and squashed face-down into the pavement directly next to a dumpster, letting out a pained groan.

“...Eeuugghh...” I moaned, struggling to get up, “...who the hell taught you to drive...?”

After taking a second to catch my breath, I weakly rolled over and found an extremely pissed-off Bruce towering above me, his sharp eyes almost sizzling with anger.

“Hey,” I said defensively, “I tried my best, okay?”

The other man wasted no time in hauling me into the air by the neck, gripping furiously tight.

“Why are you following me?” He questioned austerely. 

“What d’you mean? Why wouldn’t I? You’re my best enemy, Bruce, and I’m the villain of your dreams! We were meant to be! You can’t keep arch-enemies like us apart...! It just...wouldn’t make any sense. After all, the caped vigilante needs someone to fight, even if you’ve declared him dead.”

“I didn’t declare Batman dead,” he corrected. “People like you murdered him!”

He rammed me into the ground, pinning me down with his own weight. “You infected me! You put this...poison inside me! Everything I’ve ever fought for, everyone I’ve ever loved -- it’s all lost because of you!”

I held up my hands protectively. 

“In my defense, I never meant for this to happen, Bruce. It’s just -- you hurt me real bad on the bridge with your betrayal, y’know. I only wanted you to feel my pain. I wanted to...to be loved by you. Harley putting a ding in your gas mask was never part of the plan! The last thing I wanted was to infect my best buddy, and I...I was heartbroken when they said you died, Bruce. Really.”

Bruce released his grip on my neck, throwing my head down. “I don’t care what you meant. I would’ve given you everything, John. Anything you wanted -- I would’ve done whatever it took to make you happy. But instead, you took my love and twisted it into something ugly and wrong...!”

I blinked away some tears, desperately looking up at him.

“...Ugly? Wrong? B-But I thought -- I thought I was your light outside of Arkham.”

Bruce froze at that statement, and for the first time in forever, a spark of warmth ignited within his dead stare. He stumbled over his words, completely thrown off-guard.

“...w-what? How do you...how do you know about...”

I gave him a genuine smile, my heart floating with contentment. “The music box, Bruce. I saw it. Read the inscription, listened to the melody...the whole shebang. I keep it in a very special place in my office now -- right next to your doll -- and I play the music all day long. It truly is...beautiful. It calms me down when things get too stressful, and it also gives me company when...when I get lonely.”

Bruce seemed puzzled. “...Lonely? Don’t you have Harley?”

My lips sank into a frown. “Well...yeah, but she doesn’t care about me the same way you do. She only cares if there’s something in it for her. You though...you stood up to the Director of the Agency herself when she tried to shoot me. No one’s ever stuck their neck out like that for me before. No one. It’s why I can’t let you go. It’s why...I love you, Bruce.”

He appeared entirely paralyzed at the confession and remained motionless, unsure of how to react. There was distress written all over his face, and for just a split-second, I saw the old Bruce come out as he gazed at me longingly, acting as if he were about to say he loved me in return. 

Did he still feel the same way about me as he did before Lotus came along? I mean, if the Riddler could remember his past after all those years, surely there had to be something of the old Bruce left in there, right? It had only been what, a few days? It would be impossible for a bond as strong as ours to just...vanish that quickly. I mindlessly held my breath, anxiously waiting for a response.

Before Bruce could utter a word however, police sirens cried in the distance and interrupted our talk, leading Bruce to shift back into Lazarus as he took one last look at me, preparing to flee.

“...Don’t follow me again,” he demanded, “or I will kill you the next time we meet.”

Bolting out of sight, Lazarus disappeared in the dark alleyways as I stayed on the pavement, trying to wrap my head around what just happened.

What was that? Was Bruce about to say he loved me too? For a while there, it actually looked like he had gone back to his old self, and I could almost see the same, compassionate Bruce I met at Lucius’ funeral...up until the police showed up. 

I just wished we could’ve had more time to talk. These days, it felt like Bruce was always running away from me, and I couldn’t deny that I was annoyed by it.

He couldn’t just get a music box like that, and then pretend not to love me! The man had been dropping hints ever since we met that he wanted to take our relationship further, for god’s sake. Why was he avoiding me like the plague now? As much as I enjoyed Bruce’s complex nature, this isn’t how I wanted things to play out.

I guessed the best way to find Bruce now was to go after Bane. I didn’t know what the two of them had in common, and frankly, it was kind of insulting that they had a more stable friendship than we did. But if tracking down that beast meant getting to be around the love of my life, I was ready to do anything.

Death itself couldn’t keep Bruce away from me, and Waller certainly wasn’t going to succeed. That woman had screwed this city over for long enough. If anyone was going to take her down, it was going to be me.

Hurriedly pulling up to my side, Willy stepped out of the scraped car and called for me to get back in, his voice pumped with adrenaline.

“Boss! The cops are coming. We need to go!”

Slowly rising from the rough ground, I patted myself clean and sulked towards the vehicle, hanging my head low out of heartbreak. 

“Is everything okay, Mr. Johnny?” Willy checked. “Where’s Bruce?”

I glanced back at the police car Bruce used to escape and clenched my jaw, my nose crinkling in anger as my face heated up.

“That’s exactly what I’m about to find out...whether he likes it or not. He’s doing everything he can to break the stitch, but I’m not letting him go. Not after all we’ve been through. Not without a fight.”


	10. Calm Before the Storm

From Alfred’s POV

THAT EVENING, GOTHAM CEMETERY

Standing before Thomas and Martha’s graves, I silently sighed to myself as I thought back to when Bruce was just a boy, completely oblivious to what this cruel world had in store for him.

Life had already been hard enough for the lad, what with criminals constantly lurking around the estate. But even though he never knew the truth about his father, Bruce had always been smart enough to steer clear of Falcone and Hill, and often vanished from the manor unannounced, seeking solace elsewhere.

I remembered he used to go to his childhood friend, the Cobblepot boy, and spend time with him as a distraction. Oswald was always a troublemaker, and his little “pranks” never failed to get Bruce in hot water...but at least he was happy. He had someone he could lean on, someone to enjoy life with, someone to talk to -- but with a tragic turn of events, the Cobblepot boy eventually disappeared...and Bruce was left alone. And as time passed on, the rest of his friends and family began to dwindle as well. Like a candle flickering to darkness.

That horrid night of Thomas and Martha’s murders still haunted my dreams to this day, and I’d never forget the traumatizing impact it made on their son.

Bruce changed forever after that. He rarely spoke to anyone, lashed out occasionally, and usually found the best company within himself. It was like the lad had created his own, utopian world far away from this dreadful city, and with every year he grew, the more his utopia grew with him. But reality wasted no time in waking him up.

Despite being just a child, the world had already dumped a never ending amount of adult worries onto the boy, and it destroyed his innocence, just as Lotus was destroying him now. It seemed as if Bruce could never keep anything he wanted, and Gotham made a habit of tearing those he held dear away from him. It was almost like the universe was forcing him to be alone. And as much as I despised to admit it...it succeeded.

Not even a week ago, Bruce was an upstanding, adamant young gentleman -- but with just one incident, he had transformed into a sadistic, deluded animal who hungered for nothing but the death of those who wronged him. All that training, all those years spent masquerading as Batman...and Bruce broke his code like it was nothing. And when I should’ve been by his side during his time of need, I ran as a coward would, and left him to the mercy of the Agency.

I may have been cooperating with Waller for now, but that didn’t erase the fact that I was furious at her for what she did to Bruce. Locking him up in a cell, using him for experiments, and then having the audacity to keep his body even after he died...I didn’t agree with Bruce’s approach to revenge, but I certainly understood where his anger stemmed from. What Waller did was selfish and inhumane, and I only prayed that one day, someone would be powerful enough to bring her to justice. Lord knew she deserved it.

Bowing my head in a mournful manner, I approached the graves and frowned sullenly, unsure of what to say. In all my years living in Gotham, I had never seen a situation such as Bruce’s, and I found myself at a complete loss for words. I took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp, chilly air.

“I’ve failed you, Thomas...I’m sorry. For the past twenty years, I’ve done all I can to ensure Bruce lived a more peaceful life, only to have him end up like this. While I wish you and Martha were still here, I’m glad that neither of you have to witness this horror. It’s something I never even imagined could happen, and yet...here we are. I just wish I knew how to help Bruce.”

“You’ve done more than enough for him, Alfred.”

Surprised at the response, I looked behind me and saw none other than Tiffany walking up to my side, her face plastered with stress.

“Tiffany,” I greeted, “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.”

She gave me her best smile. “I wanted to talk to you, and I also needed some time away from the Agency. When I couldn’t find you at the manor, I figured you’d be here. Looks like I was right.”

I beamed at her. “Clever as always, this one. How is the Agency treating you?”

Tiffany’s answer wasn’t as positive as I’d hoped.

“The other agents -- like Blake, Avesta, and Harrison -- have all been hospitable towards me. As for Waller...” she let out a sharp exhale, “I guess she’s all right. She certainly knows how to get things done, and she’s a force to be reckoned with...but ever since I saw how she treated Bruce, I’ve been skeptical about her methods. You saw my messages about Bruce being kept in a cell?”

I nodded grimly. “I did, yes. They were...hard to read.”

“I’m sorry to drag you into this, Alfred. I just thought you deserved to know.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I replied. “Even if Bruce is no longer following his mission to get rid of Gotham’s crime, that doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned it as well. There are good people in this city who deserve peace, and I refuse to simply stand by and let him terrorize them. My only hope is if we do manage to arrest him, that Bruce doesn’t resist. I don’t think I could bear see what would happen afterwards.”

I cleared my throat, changing the subject. “Anyways, what is it that you wanted to talk with me about?”

Tiffany’s expression lit up with remembrance, and she reached into her coat pocket, pulling out a very familiar, golden pocket-watch. She held it out in her palm, giving me an apologetic gaze.

“I still have your watch. I tried to give it to Bruce while he was in the Agency’s custody, like you asked, but Waller wouldn’t let me anywhere near him, so I never got the chance. I’m sorry.”

I took the watch into my hand. “Ah, it’s hardly your fault. And besides, I shouldn’t have passed the burden onto you. It’s my job to give it to Bruce. Though, I’m not even sure if he’d accept it at this point. That boy has no love for me anymore.”

Averting her eyes to the graves, Tiffany’s brow furrowed in regret.

“What would...they think about all this?”

I followed her sight. “Thomas and Martha, you mean? Well, Martha was always a woman of compassion. Her strength ran through her family, and she did everything she could to protect Bruce from Thomas’ crimes. If she saw Bruce handcuffed, sitting in that interrogation room, rambling insane nonsense...Martha would be horrified at what he’s become. And she’d be devastated knowing there was nothing she could do about it.”

“As for Thomas, he had an obsession for control. His entire career was driven by it, and it drove him to the grave. That stubborn old mule would’ve sacrificed everything -- I mean, everything -- to save Bruce from Lotus’ clutch. And with every failure to rescue him, it would end up hurting Thomas more than it did his son.”

Tiffany brought the question back to me. “I can’t imagine it’s easy for you either. I heard Waller let you observe the interrogation. That must’ve been a disaster, especially with Bane running free.”

“You’re quite right about that,” I confirmed. “The way Bruce stared at me through that window, and went on about his desire to obliterate Gotham...I won’t deny that I didn’t feel entirely safe, even with a dozen trained agents surrounding me. And it certainly didn’t calm my nerves to see that monstrosity barge in. What on Earth is Bruce doing with Bane? Why work with him? What could the two of them possibly have in common?”

Tiffany pondered the idea for a second.

“Well, as far as I know, Bane’s been trying to cure his Venom addiction, and the only way to do that is to use the blood of a Lotus survivor. Maybe that’s what Bruce offered him in return for his assistance. The serum.”

I agreed. “That could definitely be true. Although, why wouldn’t Bane simply kill Bruce and take his blood? He’s not exactly the cooperative type. Seems like murder is usually Bane’s initial impulse. I’m honestly impressed that Bruce could befriend such a savage.”

“I guess the two of them could be after something that we don’t know about yet.”

“Perhaps. Well, we can talk about this another time. It appears as if one of your colleagues has come to see you.”

Glancing at the cemetery’s gate, Tiffany and I saw Agent Blake waiting outside next to an Agency vehicle, his entire temperament coated with guilt. He had the face of someone who had just seen a friend die, and the way he blankly stared at the ground only worried me further. What happened? Had Bruce done something else?

I turned to Tiffany, gesturing towards the gate.

“You should see what he wants. I imagine it’s rather urgent.”

“Yeah. We’ve been busy recently, dealing with Lazarus and the Joker. I hope nothing else has happened.” She began walking away, waving a sincere goodbye. “I’ll talk to you later, Alfred. Stay safe. Things are going to get worse before they get better.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Tiffany’s POV

Making my way out of the cemetery, I slipped through the rusted gates and wandered over to Blake who looked like he hadn’t slept in days, the entrance creaking shut behind me. His hair was unkempt, his eyes sagged with fatigue, and I couldn’t find a single hint of motivation in him. What was going on?

“...Blake?” I called out hesitantly. The man barely acknowledged me, keeping his gaze on the pavement.

“Tiffany,” he said, clearly distracted, “there you are.”

I looked at him caringly, concerned about his fragile state. “Hey, are you okay? You seem sort of...down.”

He was quiet for a minute and chewed on his bottom lip, thinking about how to break the news to me. I waited in suspense, not liking where this was going.

“...I-It’s Avesta,” Blake finally answered, his voice softly trembling. “...she...she didn’t make it.”

My heart froze.

“W-What...?” I stuttered. “What do you mean?”

Blake struggled to get his words out. 

“Even though the doctors were able to save her from dying on the day we found her, Iman’s injuries were still too severe. She managed to survive for a while longer, but all of her wounds combined with the trauma and the surgeries -- her body eventually just...gave up. S-She couldn’t take it anymore. She...she’s gone, Tiffany. Avesta’s...gone. And she sure as hell isn’t coming back like Bruce did.”

I simply stood there with my mouth hanging open, utterly shocked by the news and uncertain of what to do with myself.

Gently wrapping my arms around the man, I waited for a second to see what Blake would do before pulling him into a comforting embrace, holding him there as I tried my best to reassure him.

“Blake, I’m...I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say.”

He shook his true emotions off and held it in, trying to keep his composure.

“Thank you. But it’s not your fault. Bruce is the one who tortured and killed her...and believe me when I say he is going to suffer for it. Whatever he has planned for tomorrow, we can’t let him win this war. That lunatic has destroyed enough lives for one day. We have to take him down. At any cost.”

I nodded in agreement, separating the hug. “We will catch him, Blake. The Agency won’t let Lazarus get away with his crimes.”

Blake wasn’t entirely convinced. “Well, you’re certainly more optimistic than I am, but I appreciate the thought. It’s just...it’s been one hell of a week, you know. Hard to process everything that’s happened.” 

He opened the car’s door, gesturing inside. “Anyway, this isn’t what I came here to tell you. Waller wants us all back at the precinct. She wants to make absolutely sure we’re prepared for Bruce’s next step. I just thought you should hear the news about Avesta in person, rather than over the phone.”

I stepped inside. “Thank you for letting me know, Blake. News like this isn’t easy to deliver, and I’m sorry you had to be the one to share it.”

He took a seat next to me, almost instantly falling into desolate silence.

“...Let’s just keep on our minds on the task at hand. Waller may want Bruce alive, but I’m finishing what she started, and putting an end to Bruce Wayne. For good, this time. Whether the Director likes it or not.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Bruce’s POV

OLD FIVE POINTS

“Everything’s ready?” I asked.

“Everything’s ready.” Bane confirmed, observing the subway station. He gave me an impressed look, crossing his arms. “I’ll admit, Wayne, I’m surprised you decided to go down this road. Even after you took a pipe to one of my boys, I didn’t think you were capable of something this malevolent.”

I chuckled, sitting down on a crate. “Really? If I recall correctly, you said, and I quote, ‘there’s something about me that gives you pause. Something that casts a shadow over my heart.’ If anything, you were the first to catch it, Bane.”

He rested his hands on his hips. “I suppose I was. I just never realized how dark that shadow was...until now. You’re definitely your father’s son, aren’t you.”

“No,” I countered, “my father was a man fueled by his own supremacy. Instead of putting out the fire, he would’ve tried to control the flames, and use them against his enemies.”

Bane quirked a brow. “But not you?”

I rose to my feet, viewing all of our equipment. “...I am the fire. And tomorrow, we’re incinerating Gotham’s kings. After all, the best way to take a beast down is to aim for the heart. If we want to wipe this city from the face of the Earth, we have to kill the Mayor.”

“I’m ready when you are, but tell me something first, Wayne.” Bane wandered over to me, his heavy boots shaking the floor. “Why the sudden change of heart? It wasn’t too long ago that you were trying to save Gotham. Why destroy something you helped build?”

Gazing longingly at John’s little, abandoned house and the “Welcome, Bruce!” banner hanging above it, I thought back to our encounter in the alleyway and let out a regretful breath, wishing I could speak with him as a friend.

“Not everything is worth the work put into it,” I answered Bane. “I sacrificed so much to support this city and its people. To keep them growing. But it was too late when I finally realized I had been nurturing a parasite the whole time. Thankfully, Lotus came along and opened my eyes.”

I faced the taller man and slowly sauntered towards him, repainting my memories of what happened at Wayne Enterprises.

“I was devastated when the Agency told me I had been infected with Lotus, you know. I truly believed that it couldn’t get any worse, and I prepared myself for death. However...one night, after the doctors finished toying with me...I started to slip away. The entire world began to fade, and I thought my life was coming to an end.”

I held a finger up, grinning serenely. “But then, I woke up. I found myself trapped in a tight, dark space, and my entire body felt cold. At first, I mistook it for a casket, but pfft, who would attend my funeral? No...it had to be a morgue. And something inside me suddenly felt the desire to break out. So, I did. It took some effort, but eventually, the door busted open. Before I knew it...I was free. Not just from the morgue, but also from Bruce Wayne. I no longer had to put on a charade. No longer had to take part in something that had been lost ages ago. I had roamed into a new world...and I’ll be damned if I allow the Agency to taint this one as well.”

Smiling at Bane, I laid a friendly hand on his built shoulder.

“That’s where you come in. I know I haven’t exactly been truthful with you in the past, but I can assure you that we both hunger for the Agency’s demise. If everything goes according to plan, their Director will be dead before the sun sets tomorrow, and we can finally proceed with the final step. Gotham's days are numbered.”

Bane smirked in approval and grabbed my hand, shaking it firmly. “Carry the torch, Mr. Suit. I’m right beside you.”


	11. Armageddon

From Waller’s POV

GCPD, COMMISSIONER’S OFFICE

THE NEXT NIGHT

“I’m sorry about your loss, Waller,” Gordon sympathized, rubbing his temple. “Even if I didn’t know her that well, Avesta was always a ray of sunshine in this hurricane of a city. It’s hard to believe that Lazarus actually got to her. Things certainly won’t be the same without her running around.”

I stared at the red stamp on Avesta’s file, my heart wrenching with grief. 

“...Deceased,” I read aloud, shutting the document closed, “along with a hundred other nameless souls. This fight with Wayne only gets harder and harder by the day, and frankly, I’m not sure how much longer we can hold up. But thank you for your condolences. Avesta was one of my best agents -- this will be a significant blow to the Agency. I only hope the police force won’t have to suffer loss like this.”

Gordon took on a more vengeful tone. “That maniac lays a finger on Renee-- or any of my other officers -- and I’ll put him down myself.”

I gazed at him in a warning manner. “I know it’s hard to remember this, but keep in mind, Commissioner, that Bruce is just as much of a victim of Lotus as those he kills. We’re trying to help him, not hurt him. Don’t misunderstand though. That doesn’t mean I won’t.”

A defeated breath escaped him. “...You’re right, you’re right. It’s just -- with all the casualties, the bombs, and Joker still on the loose -- you need something to blame. And at the moment, Bruce is the closest thing we’ve got. What the hell is he even doing with Bane? I mean, they’re both rotten, mind you, but I never imagined they’d work together. Bane’s strength combined with Bruce’s smarts...it’s a recipe for disaster. I don’t like it. Not one bit.”

I stood up from my desk, putting Avesta’s file away in the cabinet. “You and me both, Gordon. I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see what Bruce has planned for today. He made it sound pretty big, and if his attack at the city address is anything to go by, we’ll need every man we’ve got.”

Interrupting our conversation, a knock suddenly emitted from the door, diverting our focus from Avesta’s case. I adjusted my glasses, straightening my posture.

“Come on in,” I called out. “The door’s open.”

Humbly allowing himself into the office, one of the doctors who operated on Bruce strode towards the center of the room, greeting both me and the Commissioner with a simple smile.

“Dr. Elswood,” I said, pleasantly surprised. “It’s been quite some time since we last met. What’s wrong?”

The young doctor gave me a casual shake of the head, his stern, grey eyes twinkling with intellect.

“Nothing, actually. You’ll be pleased to hear that I have good news for once.”

“Really?” I asked. “And what would that be?”

Elswood softly shut the door behind him, his expression glowing with sincerity and accomplishment.

“I’m proud to say that our experiments on Wayne have finally paid off,” he announced. “Director...we found a cure.”

“A cure?” I repeated as my eyes popped open, admittedly in disbelief. “For Lotus, you mean?”

“Yes,” he verified. “Only this one actually maintains the brain chemistry. In other words, if anyone gets infected, this cure will be able to save them from the virus’ symptoms and preserve their sanity. It can also repair brain chemistry, if need be.”

Gordon joined in, hooked with interest. “Wait, you said it can repair it?”

Elswood nodded. “Correct, sir.”

The Commissioner turned to me, his face lit up with eagerness. “Waller, if this cure can fix brain chemistry...do you think it’s possible we could save Bruce? Bring him back from this madness?”

When I was silent in response, Elswood answered for me.

“Yes, you could. Although, the affects would take longer to settle in, considering how deeply Lotus has implanted itself into Bruce. Luckily for us however, he hasn’t been infected for that long. So there’s still a chance we could save him.”

Trying to untangle my thoughts, I confessed my doubts about the situation.

“Not that I don’t believe you, Doctor, but you’ll understand when I say this sounds too good to be true.”

“Of course, ma’am. Lotus has been such a significant threat over the past week -- especially yesterday -- I could hardly believe it myself when we discovered the cure. But I assure you, it does work. We’ve tested it.”

“Could it save the people who were infected at the address?”

Elswood shook his head grimly. “Unfortunately, no. You see, those people were infected with a modified version of Lotus. We’re still studying that one...trying to figure out just what the hell Wayne did to it. At the moment, our cure only works with the original virus.”

“Well, it’s certainly better than nothing. Even if it can’t cure everyone, it’s about time we saved someone. Excellent work, Doctor. This will be a major help to us. And thank you.”

He beamed gratefully, heading for the office’s door. “Hopefully, with this cure, the amount of survivors will finally surpass the death toll. There’s been too much bloodshed ever since Bruce rose to power, and I can only pray that this saves him too. We put him through a lot of pain with those experiments, you know. Perhaps this is my chance to make amends.”

“You only did what you had to,” I replied empathetically. “Just like the rest of us.”

Exiting the room, Elswood left me and Gordon alone as we speculated the possible outcomes with this newfound cure, both of us thinking about one man in particular.

“...So,” I said, breaking the silence, “you want to cure Bruce.”

He raised a brow. “...You don’t?”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Of course, I do. But think about it: if we cure Bruce, he’ll return to his old self. And despite any differences the two of you might’ve had in the past, you can’t deny he was a good, compassionate man -- always did what he thought was best for others. If he were to regain his sanity and learn about the hundreds of men, women, and even children he’s killed...”

Gordon’s shoulders slouched with realization. “...the truth would destroy him.”

I nodded austerely. “Exactly. His guilt would demolish him, and we could just end up sealing his madness for good. That’s not something I’m willing to put him through. As horrible as it sounds, Bruce would probably be better off if we just killed him. Or threw him in Arkham.”

The Commissioner’s eagerness vanished at the prediction, and he frowned morosely. 

“I...I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. There’s also the fact that Alfred would probably want a say or two in the decision. Bruce is practically his son.”

Gordon quickly changed subjects, wanting to get his mind off of Wayne. 

“Anyways, I still haven’t heard a peep from Batman, and frankly...it’s scaring the hell outta me. Normally, an incident like the one at the address would have Batman flyin’ all over Gotham until he caught the culprit. For him to stay silent for so long...it’s making me think that perhaps Bruce wasn’t just spewing nonsense, after all. Do you think it’s possible, Waller? Could a guy like Bruce Wayne really have killed Batman?”

I froze at the question and contemplated it or a moment, finally deciding that it was time Gordon learned the truth. There was no point in keeping it a secret anymore, and if I was being honest, he’d probably crack the code on his own anyways. Sure, he wasn’t always the sharpest tool in the shed, but the Commissioner was anything but stupid. Holding this back from him any longer would really just be an insult by now.

“...Gordon,” I said, trying to keep it together, “there’s...there’s something you need to know. Something I should’ve told you much sooner.”

He eyed me suspiciously, sipping his coffee. “Okay...and what would that be?”

I gazed at the floor, unable to even look at Gordon. 

“It’s about Batman. And where he’s been all this time. I’m sorry, Jim. I wanted to reveal this earlier -- I really did -- but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. Considering how close the two of you were though, I think you deserve to know. Batman isn’t dead. He’s actually--”

“--Director!” Harrison’s voice suddenly blurted out from my earpiece, halting my train of thought. “It’s Lazarus! He just launched another attack--” 

There was a chain of static, cutting him off for a few seconds. I pressed on my earpiece, responding back.

“Harrison!” I exclaimed. “What’s going on?”

“--City Hall! He’s taken the Mayor hostage--” more static, “--and Bane’s on his way to blow up Gotham Bridge--!”

“Gotham Bridge?” I turned to Gordon. “That’s the only way out of the city! Wayne’s trying to trap us all in by destroying it!”

The Commissioner immediately got to work. “I’ll send a squad to deal with Bane and disarm that bomb. You just worry about getting the Mayor back in one piece. If there’s anyone we can’t afford losing now, it’s him.”

“Thank you, Commissioner.” I brought my attention back to Harrison. “Listen to me, agent. Our top priority is saving the Mayor and any other hostages Lazarus may have taken. Understood? We’ll deal with the man himself later. I’m sending more agents your way right now, along with some old-fashioned guns -- just in case Lazarus tries another one of his EMP blasts.”

“Understood, Director. We’ll--”

A burst of static silenced him, leaving me in the dark.

“Harrison? Harrison! ...Dammit. I’ll have to contact one of my other agents, make sure everyone knows what’s going on.”

Gordon took out his own walkie-talkie, jogging out of the office. “I’ll get to Gotham Bridge as soon as possible. Anything happens, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Understood. And good luck.” 

Switching the line over to Agent Blake, I followed Gordon’s actions and practically bolted out of the precinct, getting one of the vehicles ready as I prepared to head to City Hall.

“Blake,” I said, “Wayne has just hit City Hall, and he’s taken the Mayor hostage. I need you to gather as many people as you can, and head over there ASAP. Do whatever it takes to get the Mayor to safety. Got it?”

No response.

“Blake.” I repeated. 

Still, nothing. 

“Are you there? Blake! BLAKE!”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Blake’s POV

CITY HALL, MAYOR’S OFFICE

“Blake,” Waller called frantically, “are you there? Blake! BLAKE!”

Slowly rising back into consciousness due to the Director’s voice, I opened my eyes and gradually regained awareness, my entire body tingling with numbness. 

The room around me was nearly pitch-black, and the only light I could see came from the moon itself as it eerily seeped through the tall windows, creating disturbing shadows on the walls. There were no lamps, no talking, and certainly no friendly faces. Just pure darkness.

Sitting on the opposite side of the room though, I could barely see another man restrained to a chair along with a masked figure towering above of him, both of them whispering in hushed tones. The man had a gag securely tied over his mouth, and his eyes bulged with fear as he struggled in his bonds, desperately trying to break free...but to no avail. There was also a clear, sharp edge of a knife just kissing the skin on his throat, and his captor only laughed with every whimper he made. Was that...who I thought it was?

“I’m sorry,” the captor apologized insincerely, “could you repeat that, Mr. Mayor? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

I instantly recognized the captor’s voice. It had to be Lazarus. There was no doubt about it.

The Mayor let out a series of muffled shouts and writhed in pain as Lazarus traced the knife along his flesh, drawing beads of blood.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Leave him alone!” Lazarus whirled around at my outburst, narrowing his eyes at me and halting mid-action.

“...Ah. Agent Blake,” he slithered towards me, taking his attention off the Mayor for a minute as he wiped his blade clean. “Trying to play the hero again, are we? I did too, once upon a time. Back when I thought it still mattered.”

Lazarus suddenly threw a vicious punch across my face, causing pain to pound throughout my cheeks.

“...Look how well that turned out!”

I clenched my jaw, trying to ignore the throbbing ache. 

“You son a bitch...!” I cursed. “You killed Avesta. You’re going to suffer for what you’ve done!”

He paused, furrowing his brow in thought.

“Avesta’s...dead?” He questioned.

“...yes,” I breathed out. “She--she died yesterday. Right in front of me. I...I watched the whole thing. Even held her as she drifted away. You could feel the life draining from her. Why did you do it, Bruce...? Why did you kill her?”

Despite not being able to see his entire face, I still noticed a brief pang of guilt flash within his expression, and his eyes were downcast in a woeful manner. It almost seemed like he...regretted killing Avesta, and for the first time in an eternity, Lazarus actually displayed some humanity.

However, that humanity quickly perished when a joyous glint shined darkly in his gaze and he began to chuckle deviously, his entire body shaking with jolts of hysterical laughter. His laughter spiked in volume and grew into a full-blown cackle that brazenly echoed throughout the emptiness, filling the office with ominous giggles. And with how much Lazarus was struggling to speak, you’d think he was genuinely amused.

Glancing back at the Mayor, the madman snickered to himself, lining the edge of his knife with a single finger.

“You hear that, Mr. Mayor?” He sneered, slightly out of breath. “Karma does exist. Sooner or later, everyone gets what’s coming to them.”

I gritted my teeth, lurching forward out of anger. “You think this is funny?”

Lazarus shook his head. “Not funny, necessarily, but the irony is so, pathetically...LAUGHABLE. You’ll forgive me if I can’t help but let out a few chortles. Goddammit, that clown’s rubbing off on me, isn’t he.”

“What do you have against Avesta? Why was she such a prominent target for you?”

He was bewildered by that question. “Why wouldn’t she be, is what you should be asking. I hope you understand, Blake, that all of this--” Lazarus motioned to himself, “--wouldn’t even exist if Avesta had only pulled. the damn. trigger. I gave her the opportunity to kill me back at Wayne Enterprises. Sat there like a stray dog while I begged her to shoot what would become Gotham’s worst nightmare...and she refused.”

Lazarus clenched his fists. “Avesta’s desire to please the Agency was so embedded within her, that she couldn’t even have the decency to show a little mercy. That’s why I put her through all that pain. That’s why I sliced out those exuberant eyes of hers. Because she couldn’t see the madness she was creating. So why bother keeping them?”

I gave Lazarus an anguished look. “Avesta only spared you because she thought we could save you, Bruce. She never meant to hurt you.”

He was unconvinced. “You think I haven’t heard that one before? Everyone in this city uses the same, GODDAMN excuse! You, Avesta, Alfred, Tiffany...and even John. You’re all liars, deceivers...masked killers who disguise themselves as heroes. When in reality...” Lazarus backed towards one of the windows and held up a remote for his favored EMP generator, “...none of us are heroes.”

Activating the remote, Lazarus suddenly threw the entire city into darkness with a low, electronic groan as he picked up another device, hacking into Tiffany’s tablet and triggering her voice to come through along with Waller’s.

“--Dammit,” the Director hissed through the mic, “that must’ve been an EMP blast. I see Wayne hasn’t given up on his old tactics. We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

“Wait,” Tiffany replied, “my devices have EMP shielding. They were able to survive the blast. I can still keep an eye on him while the other agents fetch the mayor.”

“Good thinking. Things will be a hell of a lot harder without our tech, but at least we can monitor Wayne.”

Lazarus unexpectedly joined the conversation, smiling to himself as he enjoyed the outside view. 

“Just as you always do,” he interrupted. “I figured the Agency would be experts at this by now. All you did for an entire week was monitor me. Watching, and waiting. Standing idly by as I rotted away...don’t deny that you relished it.”

“What do you want, Wayne?” Waller fired back.

“What do I want?” He repeated. “I’m surprised you ask. You didn’t seem to care back when I was suffering in your secret lab -- when all I wanted was a little mercy...” a pleased chuckle escaped him. “But now that I’ve stoked the city’s fire with its own fuel, and sent your own organization crumbling around you...now you care. Because you’re afraid. Because you know what kind of a monster you’ve created, and you know what I’m capable of. Isn’t that right...Director?”

“Enough, Bruce,” she said firmly, “It’s time we settled this, but I want the mayor first. He’s not a part of this. Leave him out of it.”

Lazarus tossed a casual glare in my direction, shaking his head in disapproval. “Even now, she still makes demands...when I’ve clearly got the upper hand. You’ll have to learn someday, Waller, that barking orders isn’t enough to push through life. Though, it can certainly push some people.”

He focused on the Mayor once again, prowling towards him. “Fine. You want your beloved mayor so much?” The man brandished his knife, grabbing his victim and hurling him to the floor. “...Then you can have him.”

“Wait!” The Mayor shouted, frantically trying to escape. “Please...no! NO!”

But it was too late. Before he could say anything more, Lazarus had ripped open his shirt and impaled him with the knife, aggressively tearing a rigid gash in his stomach as he cut him open like a frog. 

Hot blood spurted all over the floor and stained Lazarus’ hands as he continued to work, ignoring the series of agonized shrieks coming from the Mayor while I tried to break my restraints. I had no clue how we were going to get out of this situation, and without my earpiece, it was impossible to know if anyone was coming for us...but I’d be damned if I let the Mayor die. 

Desperately searching around the office for an escape, I suddenly realized how close I was to the EMP generator, and decided to use the Mayor as a distraction. If I could scoot myself within range while Lazarus wasn’t looking, there was a chance I’d be able to disarm it and give Waller all her tech back. From that point, it would take them mere minutes to locate the two of us...but the Mayor had to suffer for just a bit longer.

“Hold still!” Lazarus growled, digging deeper.

The way Bruce cut into him...it almost reminded me of the gruesome method Joker used to attack Detective Bullock a few days ago, and it only made me wonder if, perhaps, Lazarus might’ve had a second alliance we weren’t aware of. The two of them certainly seemed close before, and I saw no reason they couldn’t work together now -- especially with Bruce going nuts. Christ. This storm just got messier and messier with every passing day, didn’t it?

Finally yanking his knife out, Lazarus rose back to his feet and reached over to the desk, taking a strangely familiar drone in hand. The miniature drone oddly resembled Tiffany’s own devices, and with the simple push of a button, Bruce set it to emit an ominous beeping signal. It was the same one I heard when Batman interrogated Eli, and the same one at the Lady of Dublin when Riddler launched those homing missiles.

Oh, shit.

Practically leaping my chair towards the EMP generator, I hurriedly retrieved my earpiece and stuck it back in, preparing to deactivate the machine.

By now, Lazarus had stuffed the drone into the Mayor’s stomach with a disgusting squish and tied his arms to a rope that led outside one of the windows, dragging him across the floor as he screamed for help.

“Don’t worry about your city, Mr. Mayor,” Lazarus grunted out, hauling him halfway over the window sill. “Gotham was ruined anyways.”

With one forceful shove, Lazarus sent the Mayor plummeting through the air like a comet until the rope caught him in place with a tight tug, causing him to dangle for everyone to see. Even though the man was several floors beneath us now, I could still hear him wailing for help in the distance as the signal continued to ring from his insides, drawing god knows how many missiles straight for City Hall.

Fortunately, on top of all the commotion going on, I also caught the sound of several footsteps clamoring towards the office, trying to get past Lazarus’ traps. Judging by the volume, they didn’t seem too far away, and Waller’s voice barked among them, shouting orders left and right. The other agents must’ve found us. All I had to do now was survive.

Bringing his attention back to me, Lazarus flipped the knife in his hand and strolled for the door, waving a casual goodbye.

“I’d stay to enjoy the show, but my business calls me elsewhere. Have fun, Blake...and goodbye. Tell Avesta I said ‘hi,’ would you? I’d hate for her to think I had already forgotten her.”

Hovering a foot above the EMP generator’s power button, I simply glared at Lazarus and smirked, eager to see his reaction once he realized he was cornered.

“You can tell her yourself.”

Slamming my foot down, I instantly shut the generator off and restored power to the entire block, allowing the agents to use their shock pistols again. The abrupt turn of events threw Lazarus off-guard, and using the distraction as an opening, I sprung upwards and slammed my chair into him, stunning the man for a moment as Waller and her agents busted in.

“There he is! Subdue him!” The Director commanded. 

A cluster of bright, blue bolts zapped onto Lazarus’ body as he trembled with the shock, letting out a pained yelp before collapsing to the floor. The ammunition didn’t seem to knock him out as it usually did with other people, but he had been weakened enough that our men could get him in handcuffs.

“Blake!” Waller exclaimed as she rushed over, cutting me loose. “Are you all right?”

I nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. But we need to evacuate! Bruce planted a drone inside the Mayor’s stomach, and its signal is gonna attract a dozen missiles our way!”

Her nose crinkled in disgust. “Inside his stomach? Oh, for the love of...” Waller turned to some of her other men. “Get the Mayor down as soon as possible, and find a way to deactivate the drone inside him. We cannot let those missiles hit City Hall, do I make myself clear?”

“Right away, Director!”

Focusing on Lazarus, she lifted the madman off the floor and began dragging him out of the office, staring him down with a deadly gaze.

“You’re lucky we need you alive. Otherwise, this would be your last day living in this godforsaken city.”

He chuckled weakly. “Well, it’s certainly yours.”

Scoffing in an unamused tone, Waller continued to shove Lazarus through the doors and hurriedly evacuated the remaining agents -- that was, until an all-too-familiar giggle took our notice.

“Leave...him...ALONE!”

Swinging through the windows with a strong kick, both Joker and Harley Quinn jumped into the scene as they sent shattered glass flying everywhere, immediately starting to attack our men.

“Sorry to spoil the party, fellas,” Harley teased, patting her mallet in her palm, “but Mama’s got a serum to make. Ain’t that right, Puds?”

Joker grinned freakishly, taking out a pair of pistols. “Anything for you, babe.”

Clashing like the front-lines of a war, the two them collided with our agents as hell unleashed, transforming the entire room into a battlefield. All around me, I could see bullets flying through the air -- both regular and electric -- while the rest of our squad did everything they could to get the Mayor to safety, the missiles getting closer and closer.

However, to my surprise, the agents actually seemed to be winning against Joker and Harley. They were still putting up quite a fight, but the more resistance we threw at them, the sloppier they became. There was no question that we’d all have to retreat sooner or later, but if we were going to get out of this place, it’d be a bonus to bring in some criminals with us.

Clumsily stumbling to the floor, Harley lost her footing after being whacked in the head with the butt of a gun, causing her to fall over as the mallet slid away and our agents surrounded her.

“Puddin!” She called, reaching out for help. But Joker’s eyes were on someone else.

Planted amidst all the mayhem like a deer in headlights, Joker glanced between Harley and Bruce, clearly deciding who he would rather save. The man was obviously torn about the dilemma -- and there was no way he’d able to save both -- but contrary to what I was expecting, he eventually sprinted in Bruce’s direction and wrapped an arm around his waist before aiming a grapple gun out the window, gliding to freedom.

Rage washed over Harley’s face, and she bared her teeth out of frustration. “Oh, why, you two-timing son of a--!”

Overwhelming the former doctor, Waller and the other agents restrained Harley’s arms behind her back as they hauled her out, having no more time to spare. It seemed like they had failed to retrieve the Mayor from his place on the building’s facade, and as the seconds flew by, the sharp whoosh of a dozen missiles could be heard in the sky.

“Move it, people!” Waller bellowed. “We have to leave! I’m afraid it’s impossible to save the Mayor at this point, and we’ve got no time to lose. So get the hell out of here, and bring Quinn to the precinct! Hurry!”

Speeding our way out of City Hall, I followed my fellow agents and dashed to the exit, quite literally running for my life. I had already seen the damage these missiles could cause once with Riddler, and I definitely didn’t want to see how they could bring down an entire building. I only hoped that the Mayor’s upcoming death would be swift. I couldn’t deny that I felt guilty for letting him suffer like that just so I could escape, but with Quinn in our custody and Lazarus’ plans taking a wrong turn, maybe the Agency would actually be able to get somewhere now. And put a permanent stop to this madness.

~~~~~~~~~~

From John’s POV

Hastily swinging from rooftop to rooftop, I struggled to carry Bruce’s limp body as I got us to a safe distance, taking a break once we were a few blocks away. Part of me couldn’t believe that I actually left Harley behind, and I almost felt heartbroken for betraying her like that...but I knew Bruce was the one who I truly wanted. 

I had fought so much and traveled so far to keep this man by my side, and I certainly wasn’t going to stop now. Regardless of any feelings I may have held for Harley, Bruce would always matter more to me. We were two threads in the same stitch, and I was his light outside of Arkham. Nothing could keep us apart.

Bruce let out a lazy mumble, still dazed from the Agency’s shocks.

“It’s okay, my love,” I comforted him. “I won’t let those Agency pigs hurt you ever again. I’m gonna get you somewhere safe, and then I’m gonna take care of you -- just like I did when those thugs at Arkham tasered you. You’re going to be all right. Trust me.”

Disturbing the intimate moment, an explosive boom rudely interrupted my thoughts as a bright, fiery light illuminated all of Gotham, painting the city red.

Steadily gazing behind me to see what it was, I found myself gaping in wonder at the incredible sight, completely awestruck by what Bruce had created. 

A monumental cloud of blazing fire engulfed City Hall as tremendous sparks shot away from the missiles’ impact, skipping through the flames that embraced the Mayor’s burning body. A symphony of panicked screams could be heard singing throughout the air, and the longer I watched the turmoil unravel, the more I could see the building’s structure crumble. It was like witnessing a firework show on the Sun itself...and the fact that Bruce was able to pull it off only made me love the man more.

“You...are one messed up guy, Bruce Wayne,” I said, laughing to myself. “...And that’s exactly why I’m never letting you go. It’s time to get things moving again. To bring them all to justice. We’ll burn this city to the ground together -- and Gotham’s final days will be the first ones to our new lives. AHAHA!”


	12. Passion

From Bruce’s POV

A FEW HOURS LATER

“I know you’re trying to create a myth,” Alfred warned, his tone sharp yet soft with care, “but be careful you don’t turn into a monster. Don’t let tombstones be your family legacy, Bruce.”

What? I thought to myself, trying to make sense of what was going on.

Why could I hear Alfred? Why did all this seem so familiar? ...Was I...was I dreaming? I couldn’t even remember the last thing that happened before I passed out, and right now, the entire world around me was black. 

All I could see was Alfred himself standing in the middle of the darkness, tending to an ornate fireplace with his back facing me. I began to approach the butler, but before I could even take two steps, a vicious fire instantly consumed him and incinerated his body, replacing him with a new figure:

Harvey Dent.

The District Attorney glared nefariously at me, his dead eyes narrowed with hatred as a coin shimmered in between his fingers. He looked exactly as I remembered him, and the closer I got, the more I could see fresh embers dancing around him.

“...H-Harvey?” I called out, admittedly missing my old friend. But the feeling wasn’t mutual.

“Up until now,” he growled, “Harvey’s been weak. He’s been afraid.” The man peeled off his prosthetic, unveiling the charred, grotesque flesh underneath as he pointed at me.

“This...this is the monster they all know that you are. EMBRACE IT!” 

Harvey’s expression immediately changed to remorse as he grabbed his hair in frustration, averting my gaze out of guilt.

“No...no! Oh god, this is what you wanted to see, isn’t it? The FREAK!”

Once again, violent flames burst around him and engulfed his body, unveiling yet another familiar face in his position. Though this time, it was someone I had hoped to never see again: Lady Arkham.

The woman let out a low, wicked chuckle, her disturbing mask barely visible through the shadows.

“Bruce Wayne,” Lady Arkham mocked, her voice echoing in the emptiness. “He’d never be the man Batman is. He only looks out for himself. Ah, but of course...now I understand. As Batman, you can prey upon the weak. The defenseless. Just like your father did. A true Wayne!”

The fire reappeared more and more frequently now, practically flying through every person I’d ever encountered in my whole life as they all said their own piece to me, their voices mashing up into one giant mess now.

“Take a gander at us now. Night and day. You’d hardly recognize us, would you--?”

“--The paths may diverge, but they end in the same place. Face down in an alley. Shot in the dark by criminals, in some godforsaken corner of Gotham--”

“--Maybe Batman’s made Gotham more dangerous. Kinda upped the bar for these freaks--”

“--Such a pretty way of sayin’ killin’ a person. I hadn’t taken you for such a ruthless fella--”

“--Wake up, Bruce. You need to wake up--!”

“--Bruce! ...BRUCE!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Snapping my eyes open with a jolt, I was greeted by a pale face looming over me as its eccentric green eyes stared at me curiously, leading me to immediately recognize them. John.

“Buddy!” He exclaimed out of relief. “You looked like you were having a nightmare there...thought I should wake you up. Though, I suppose I’ve only brought you into another one, huh. How do you feel?”

Glancing at my surroundings, I sat up and found myself in a bed, all bandaged up and taken care of. The room around me was vibrantly colored with green and purple, and on one of the walls, I spotted a collection of framed photos arranged in the shape of a smiley face. Some of them included people like Dr. Leland, Harley, and even Batman...but the majority of them were pictures of...me. 

How long had he been gathering these photos? A few of them looked like they dated back to a number of years ago, and I was pretty sure I hadn’t even met John yet. Had he been following me all this time? Just...watching my life? Frankly, I didn’t know if I was flattered or freaked out. But that wasn’t the only thing John had of me.

Sitting on a desk underneath the mounted album, there was a handmade doll next to a music box, its button eyes staring blankly at me as a haunting melody chimed in the background. Red paint had been smeared all over the doll’s face, and a piece of black cloth covered its nose and mouth...just like me.

“Where...where are we?” I croaked, still in pain from the shock Waller gave me.

“Don’t you recognize it?” John asked. “We’re at the Funhouse. This is where you found me after those Agency pigs tried to kill me and Harley. This was the last time you and I were ever friends. But then you had to go and...blow it all up!”

I glared at John, coaxing an apology out of him.

“Sorry, sorry. Dr. Leland says I have a hard time letting things go. I know you were only doing what you thought was right. No one can blame you for that...even if it did almost get me shot.”

Ignoring his previous statement, I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and braced myself, only to have a concerned John block my path.

“Hey, hey -- be careful” he comforted. “Even though I’ve tended to most of your wounds, I still don’t know if you’ve completely recovered. Do you feel okay, buddy?”

I couldn’t deny that John’s compassion threw me off-guard a bit, and the more he fretted over me, the more I started to suspect what his true motives really were. I paid no mind to his question, and instead, got straight to the point.

“Why are you being so kind to me?” I asked, remaining on the bed.

John seemed baffled by that. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be? I told you before, Brucie. I love you.” He gave me a warm smile. “...You’re my better half.”

I let out a breath, trying to understand the clown’s logic.

“It wasn’t too long ago that you wanted to kill me. Why do you suddenly care so much? Why haven’t you given up on me like the rest of this goddamn city?”

John frowned. “I never actually wanted you to die! If I did, I wouldn’t have given you that gas mask. I was just so...angry and so annoyed with everything you had done -- I wanted to get some revenge. But murdering you was never on my to-do list. You...you mean too much to me. I’m not sure I’d ever be able to sleep again if I killed you. Though...I guess you’ve already died once, haven’t you. Thanks to Harley.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “...No. I wasn’t that lucky.” 

Searching around the room for a second, I came to a pause when I noticed that a certain someone was missing. 

“Where is Harley, anyway?”

The other man fell silent.

“...In a cell, probably.”

That took me by surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“Waller tried to arrest you back at City Hall,” John explained, “so Harley and I jumped in -- quite literally, actually. At first, things were going swell, but somewhere in the chaos, Harley got overwhelmed by Waller’s people, and you were still unconscious after being zapped. I tried to save both of you, but there wasn’t enough time, so I...I...”

“...You gave her up to rescue me.” I concluded.

“Do you believe me when I say I love you now? I’d do anything for you, Bruce. Anything. Especially if it means burning Gotham to the ground.”

John leaned forward, laying his hand on top of mine. “I promise...I’ll never abandon you again. Ever. You...you do believe me, don’t you? You still have faith in me -- your old buddy, John? U-Unless...the stitch is truly broken. In that case, just say the word...and we’ll just go our separate ways. You’ll never hear from me again. It’ll be as if I don’t even exist. Just like old times.”

Without even thinking about it, I mindlessly tightened my grip on John’s hand and pulled him closer, afraid he’d slip away if I let go. 

The action caused the lovestruck clown to gaze at me in a hopeful manner, his eyes widened with surprise as he wondered if there was a chance I’d finally forgive him. I didn’t even realize I was holding the man so close until he took a seat on the bed beside me, patiently waiting for a response as I tried to hide the tears that threatened to spill.

“...Bruce?” John softly asked, still as a statue. I glanced upwards, unable to restrain myself from breaking down.

“You know,” I whispered, “when I woke up in that morgue a week ago...no one was there. Not Waller, not Tiffany, not Avesta...not even Alfred. I was all alone. Just some botched science experiment who had been left for dead, and couldn’t even be given a proper burial. This...this is the first time I’ve woken up with someone at my side. And it’s the man I had the least amount of faith in.”

John caressed my cheek, stroking affectionately. “Well, it’s not like you had no reason to doubt me. I know I hurt you a lot at Wayne Enterprises, but I won’t leave you alone again, Bruce. I’m here till the end. You know that.”

“I’m not afraid of being alone,” I corrected. “...I’m afraid of being forgotten.”

The other man brought me into an embrace, resting his head on my chest.

“Then there’s no need to be scared. Because no matter how this ends, I guarantee that ‘Joker’ and ‘Lazarus’ are gonna be two names Gotham will never forget. It’s possible we could die, I know, but at least we’ll go out with a bang! And I’ll have you right next to me, whether we’re in the Funhouse or in the grave.”

I smiled at him. “...Thank you, John. I just...I don’t want to fight alone anymore.”

He returned the smile, scooting closer. “You never were.”

Before I could say anything further, John suddenly guided me into an amorous kiss and tied his arms around me, gradually pushing me down to the mattress underneath. 

At first, I was frozen with surprise and simply lay still, unsure of how to react. I certainly wasn’t expecting our conversation to lead to this, but as time passed on, I eventually warmed up to it and kissed John back, combing a hand through his hair while the other tugged at his collar.

For a while, the two of us stayed like that and continued to shower each other with kisses, not worrying about the outside world. I had no idea where Waller was, or if Bane had even succeeded in blowing Gotham Bridge to hell -- and at the moment -- I didn’t care. Right now, all that mattered to me was John. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Breaking the kiss for just a second, I rolled over and flipped our positions so that I was above the other man. Almost instantly, I felt John’s curious hands roaming up my back as they brushed over every ridge and savored the warmth, steadily making their way up to my shoulders. 

By now, John had slid off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the porcelain skin beneath as he tossed the obstacle aside. It was pretty clear he had been wanting this for a while, and with every passing minute, more and more of our clothes found their way onto the floor, leaving nothing between us.

Hooking an arm around John’s bare waist, I smothered my lips on his own and practically flattened myself on top of him, locking our bodies together. His face and ears were flushed pink now, and the lower I worked my way down his frail chest, the more he seemed to drift into another world.

“I love you, Bruce,” John suddenly breathed out. “More than the world.”

I paused mid-action and climbed over him again, pecking a tender kiss on his forehead.

“...I love you, too, John. You’ll always be my light outside of Arkham.”


	13. The Cycle

From Tiffany’s POV

DIVINITY CHURCH

Holding the photograph in my hand, I struggled to let it go as I replayed the paused memory in my head, almost able to hear my dad’s laugh fluttering in the background. I was just a little schoolgirl when he took this photo, and to see where we’ve ended up ever since that time...it hurt.

All that innocence, all that joy, all those years spent together -- and all that was left of us was a burning city.

Dad was gone, Luke was living in his own world, mom had locked herself in the house...and now, Bruce was also slowly drifting away -- plummeting deeper and deeper into Lotus’ irrevocable clutch.

If I was being honest, I didn’t even know if “Bruce” existed anymore. It seemed like Lazarus was his only identity now, and every shred of humanity he ever held in him...had vanished. Bruce himself might’ve “returned” from the dead, but the Bruce I knew was still sleeping in that morgue. And I’d be foolish to believe he’d ever wake up.

Taking a deep breath, I finally followed the actions of the other people attending the vigil around me, and laid the photograph down with care, lighting a single candle next to it. Countless candles had already been set aflame outside of the church, and even more people had gathered around to remember their loved ones.

There were photographs of late husbands, wives, parents, and even children -- all of them killed either by Lotus...or Lazarus himself. It was a sight I never thought I’d see, and I would’ve given anything to forget it.

Glancing off to the side, I averted my attention from the vigil for a moment when I noticed a mournful Blake standing not too far away from me, staring lifelessly at a photo of Avesta as he silently said his goodbyes.

He wasn’t wearing his Agency uniform tonight, and instead, wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, along with a dark jacket and fresh bandage plastered on his cheek. He appeared even more desolate than when I last saw him, and it seemed as if the emotion in him was gradually disintegrating further and further as the days flew by.

I couldn’t deny that his recent behavior worried me. I mean, everyone was being pushed to their limits because of this chaos, but Blake seemed especially damaged. I feared he would break soon.

Quietly making my way over to the agent, I patiently stood by as he placed Avesta’s photograph down, giving it its own spot of esteem among the clusters of candles. He didn’t utter a single word or shed a single tear, and the longer he remained without displaying any type of sentiment, the more worried I became.

I abruptly broke the disturbing silence and faintly cleared my throat, barely getting Blake to even look at me.

“Shouldn’t you be in a hospital?” I asked in a light-hearted manner, trailing behind him as he wandered off to a more private location away from the vigil.

“No,” he replied bleakly. “There are enough people in there.”

I shrugged. “I just thought you’d want to rest after everything that happened at City Hall. I know Lazarus roughed you up quite a bit.”

Blake’s expression sank grimly at that, and his eyes fell to the ground in reproach as he leaned against a tree, barely touching the candles’ light.

“Psh, I was one of the lucky ones. It’s true, Lazarus gave me a thrashing, but at least I didn’t get my stomach torn open.”

I blinked both out of confusion and disgust for a few moments, thrown off-guard.

“Wait, w-what do you mean?” 

“Lazarus was torturing the Mayor,” Blake explained, his voice low and flat. “Just...cutting and slicing him open like a bloated pig...but I didn’t save him. I didn’t intervene. Instead, all I did was use him as a distraction so I could get away, and disabled the EMP generator while the Mayor was screaming in my ear, crying for mercy.”

Blake’s rough tone softened with guilt. “I...I let the Mayor die, so I could live. It’s the only reason I’m here now -- and the only reason he’s dead.”

The man gazed hopelessly at me with heavy eyelids, almost as if he were looking straight through me.

“...How do you forget something like that? How do you justify your fight against crime...when you’re as heinous as your enemies?”

I frowned out of sympathy and carefully approached Blake, offering him any kind of reassurance I could give.

“Blake, you can’t blame yourself for the Mayor’s death. Lazarus killed him. Not you. It’s not your fault.”

Contrary to what I expected, that statement only ended up sparking his grief into annoyance.

“I may not have killed him, but it’s the Agency’s job to protect people, dammit!” He snapped back. “We came to Gotham to save lives, and yet, the death toll over the past week has been higher than the death toll over the past year! What are we even doing here if we can’t help for shit? Avesta is dead. The Mayor is dead. And now even Waller’s in the hospital, ready to slip away at any moment -- all because I failed to do my job. Not to mention we have no escape at this point, considering Bane blew up Gotham Bridge. We’re trapped in a living hell, and so long as Lazarus lives...it’s never going to end.”

I raised my volume slightly, hoping to break Blake out of his enraged trance.

“Hey, Blake, stay with me, okay? I know things have been difficult, but we can’t give up now. Lazarus is murdering defenseless civilians, and unless we step up to fight back, we’re all going to die. We can’t let that happen. We can’t allow him to kill anymore innocents.”

That didn’t seem to help much, and Blake only continued to carry on with his rant.

“What does ‘innocent’ even mean anymore...? Am I innocent? I’ve killed people, Tiffany. Do you understand that? People just like you and me who had families waiting for them at home -- families that never got to see them again...until they lowered them into their graves. The Mayor was brutalized and tortured because of me, for god’s sake! Because I valued my own life more than his. Do you still think I’m innocent?” Blake shook his head. “...No. You only label me as such because I claim to do it for the greater good. But guess what? That’s the exact same goal our enemies are fighting for.”

The way Blake was speaking admittedly sent me into a state of alarm, and at this point, I didn’t even know what I could say or do that would calm his nerves.

Desperately trying to think of something, I hurriedly jumped in before Blake’s psyche could deteriorate anymore, and found myself mindlessly stepping closer and closer to him as we argued.

“We are not our enemies, Blake,” I said sternly. “We both kill people, yes, but we kill murderers. They kill innocents. That’s the difference.”

He scoffed, unconvinced. “And how do we know who’s who? Let me tell you something, Tiffany. If our war with Lazarus has taught me anything, it’s that there are only two types of people left in this world. Those who have blood on their hands, and those who lie. It’s just how the world works now, and as much as I want to see that maniac’s head roll off his shoulders, he is right about one thing: this road is leading to death’s door no matter how hard we fight, and there’s not a damn thing we can do to change that.”

Blake began to roam away from me before I could say another word and distanced himself from the vigil, waving a quick goodbye as he vanished into the night’s shadows, disappearing more with every step.

“...It’s like Lazarus said, Tiffany. There’s no crueler method to torture a man than giving him the illusion of choice.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Gordon’s POV

GCPD, COMMISSIONER’S OFFICE

“Due to yet another devastating attack conducted by Lazarus, City Hall is now in ruins after being hit by a number of missiles,” the news announced, “and the Mayor has officially been confirmed dead. Reports say that multiple agents and police officers were severely injured during the attack -- including Director Waller herself -- and I’m afraid the condition of Gotham Bridge is no better. The notorious Bane struck again tonight and detonated a series of bombs on the structure, completely decimating its architecture. At the moment, there is no way out of Gotham by car.”

Shutting the television off with a remote, I slapped the device back down on the table with a bit more force than intended and took a seat at my desk, contemplating on just what the hell to do from here.

Waller was stuck in the hospital, City Hall had been destroyed, and as of tonight, there was no way we could evacuate Gotham’s civilians -- not efficiently, anyhow. The weight of leading the Agency and the police force both fell on me now, and with the heavy amount of losses we just suffered, morale was lower than low. 

Fortunately however, there was a bright side in all this. We knew where Joker and Lazarus would most-likely be hiding, thanks to Quinn. The Bonus Bros’ Carnival, she told us -- at the funhouse, specifically. Apparently, Joker had turned the abandoned park into his own personal base of operations, and guarded the perimeter better than his own life. If we were going to infiltrate that place, it was going to take every single one of our people. And even then, things would be dicey.

I just wished I could’ve heard the whole of what Waller had to say about Bruce and Batman. It sounded like she knew where the caped vigilante was sneaking around, and to say I was concerned about Batman’s safety would’ve been an understatement. That man was a hero to Gotham’s people -- a hero to me. If someone like Lazarus was able to take him down...we were in some serious, serious trouble. 

Fighting a war without Batman was like firing a gun with no bullets. If there was any chance we could relocate him, I’d be the first to take it.

“Commissioner?” Someone suddenly said, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was Montoya.

“Renee,” I greeted, bringing my mind back to business. “Something you need?”

Closing the door behind her, Montoya took on a more empathetic tone. 

“Actually, I just wanted to see how you were doing. Y’know, with everything that’s happening. That fight with Bane was intense, and City Hall didn’t do so well either. As tough as it is, it’s important we keep our heads high in times like these. So, how are you feeling?”

I let out an irritated sigh, tugging at my collar. “If I’m being honest -- like hell. In all my years working with the GCPD, I’ve never seen something like this. At first, I didn’t take Lazarus too seriously, since he was nothing but a CEO, but I can see now what a goddamn mistake that was. I guess Wayne has more of his dad’s blood in him than we realized. Why couldn’t he have turned out like his mother instead?”

Renee sat on the edge of the desk. “Because people like her don’t survive in Gotham.”

I nodded at that, rubbing my chin in thought. “Sad, but true. If we’re lucky though, tomorrow will be the day we finally gain the upper hand. According to Quinn, Joker and Lazarus are skulking somewhere inside that deserted carnival just outside of town. They’ve got a lot of people guarding their little hideout, and even more guns. I’m not gonna lie -- it won’t be easy. But we can’t back down now. Not after all the damage they’ve dealt.”

“I hear you, Commissioner,” Renee agreed. “I just hope our men still have the strength to fight. Lazarus certainly knows how to drain morale, and it doesn’t take a genius to see that our chances of success aren’t great. But if Gotham has been able to survive for this long, I'm sure it can survive this. Even with Lazarus at the top.”

“You’re right,” I replied, “it’s just difficult to see victory as a possibility when a dead man is doing better than us. Despite there being no guarantee of survival though, I promise you I’ll do everything I can to smoke that son-of-a-bitch out of his hole, and put an end to him for good. I’d rather cure Bruce than kill him, but that might not be an option at this point.”

Renee stood up from her seat. “Whatever you think is best, Commissioner. I’m with you.”

“Thank you, Montoya. As tragic as things are, it’s good to know you’ll be here through it all.”

She beamed warmly at me, smiling out of gratitude. “I have faith in you, Gordon. Now try to get some rest, would you? You’re gonna need all the strength you can get for tomorrow.”

I chuckled and followed Renee as she headed out the door, the two of us secretly terrified of what was about to unfold the next day.

“Don’t need to tell me twice. Though, maybe someone should remind Lazarus what the word ‘dead’ means again.”

Renee’s face lit up with courage. “If it comes down to it, we’ll be there to show him.”

I smirked at that, taking one last look at my office before flicking off the lights. 

“You’re damn right we will.”


	14. Unbreakable

From John’s POV

THE FUNHOUSE

THE NEXT DAY

With a muffled blast, I felt the room around us tremble slightly as specks of debris plunged from the ceiling, dusting the floor underneath. I was still mostly asleep and cradled in Bruce’s warm embrace, barely aware of what was happening outside as the tremors continued, gradually rocking me into consciousness.

The last few days had been an absolute blur for me. One minute I was helping Harley search for a way to make her serum, then Bruce was blowing Gotham to bits after returning from the dead, and now, we were finally together just as I’d hoped...while Harley rotted away in some cell. It was almost too good to be true.

Though, part of me still couldn’t believe this was reality, and there were times when I even questioned if this was all just some fantasy playing out in my head. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d dreamt about being with Bruce, and I highly doubted it’d be the last. After all, I used to dream about him all the time back in Arkham, and would always admire from afar. Who was to say this wasn’t the same thing?

Just before I could think on the subject anymore however, I was interrupted when another distant boom set off, shaking the Funhouse once again.

Finally forcing my eyes open to see what all the commotion was about, I began to hear voices shouting from the other side of the walls, ordering commands to each other as they breached the carnival’s perimeter. I suddenly realized who it was.

Shit.

Bringing my attention to Bruce, I hurriedly shook the man in an urgent manner and called out his name, practically dragging him out of bed as the blasts strengthened in power.

“Bruce!” I exclaimed in a panicked tone. “Buddy! Wake up!”

Jolting awake, Bruce took a second or two to get his bearings before staring at me out of curiosity, wondering just what the hell was going on.

“...w-what...?” He murmured lazily. “What’s happening...?”

At the sudden sound of another, much more powerful blast, I draped my body over Bruce out of instinct and shielded him from anything that might’ve collapsed, holding onto him for dear life.

“It’s the GCPD,” I frantically explained. “They found us! We need to leave!”

Just as I was about to leap from the mattress, Bruce gripped my wrist and held me back, barely even phased by what was occurring.

“No,” he disagreed, significantly more alert than before. “If the GCPD wants a fight...then let’s give it to them.”

I gaped at him. “Are you nuts--?! I mean, yeah, you are, but there’s an army on our doorstep right now, Bruce! We can’t survive this! We’re strong, but not even we can fight that many people by ourselves. We’ll be slaughtered.”

Bruce shook his head. “We don’t have to fight everyone. All we need is Gordon. He goes missing from their sight, and those cops will scramble. You just make sure he gets here alone. I’ll handle the rest. Got it?”

I hesitated for a second, causing Bruce to soften his tone as he brought a hand up to my cheek.

“I need you to have faith in me, John,” he stressed. “After all, what are we without trust?”

Letting out a defeated sigh, I placed my own hand over his and gently held it, giving into those goddamned puppy eyes.

“...Okay, okay. I trust you. Just...be careful, all right? If you get hurt, I may not be able to save you like last time.”

Bruce didn’t even take a second to savor the moment before hopping out of bed and getting dressed, instantly ready to get back to work as he marched out the door, gun in hand.

“You won’t have to.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Gordon’s POV

“All units, move in!” I shouted to my men. “We have the element of surprise on our side -- let’s not waste it. Take down those guards and keep an eye on the exits. I don’t want a single clown running around our city after today’s assault. Do I make myself clear? This has to end now.”

“Understood!”

“Agent Blake,” I said, jogging over to him and the other agents, “are you and your people ready?”

The man firmly nodded with a dark glare in his eyes, signaling his colleagues to prepare themselves.

“Ready,” he confirmed. “It’s time we turned the tables on these freaks.”

I furrowed my brow, admittedly somewhat concerned about Blake’s mental state. After all, it wasn’t too long ago that Lazarus murdered his lover and now he was being given the chance to come face-to-face with the man himself. It wasn’t exactly a recipe for peace, and I couldn’t deny that I wasn’t fond of where this was going.

Normally, I would’ve kept him at GCPD for safety purposes, but not only did Blake insist on tagging along, he was also the closest thing we had to a director with Waller in the hospital. There wasn’t really any room or time for arguing.

“I hear that,” I replied. “Just be prepared for anything. There’s no guarantee what Lazarus could do today, and having the Joker in tow isn’t going to make this any easier. Not for us, anyway.”

“Well,” Blake took out his pistol, “standing here isn’t going to do us any favors either. We should break in before they have a chance to escape. Lazarus has slipped through our fingers too many times, and the longer he we let him run free, the more opportunities he’ll have to carry out his plans. We owe it to Gotham to put him down for good.”

I held my hand up in a preventive manner. “Now, hold on. Let me make one thing clear: I don’t want anyone using lethal force against Lazarus or Joker unless it’s absolutely necessary. There’s still information we need from both of them, and on top of that, curing Bruce is an option we have now. Killing him would be a waste at this point. Understood?”

Blake clearly didn’t approve of my approach to the situation and his expression twisted with disappointment, but he remained professional nonetheless.

“...Understood,” he reluctantly agreed. “But I hope you realize we may not have a choice anymore. We’ve tried to arrest Bruce twice already, and look how that’s turned out. Lazarus is no common criminal. You can’t just slap a pair of handcuffs on him and expect him to stay in line. That man always has something up his sleeve. Are you willing to risk more lives playing his games, Commissioner?”

I crossed my arms, somewhat annoyed with Blake. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, let’s just focus on arresting him.”

Blake’s eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s worth consideration, is all I’m saying.”

Dropping the subject for now, Blake returned to his people and began giving out commands as I addressed my own officers, directing them around the abandoned carnival and showing them where to go.

“All right, people,” I called out, “let’s get this show on the road. The Agency will keep watch on the perimeter -- make sure no one gets in or out without us knowing. Meanwhile, we’re gonna infiltrate the Funhouse. If our info is correct, that’s the Joker’s main base of operations, and most-likely, it’s where he’ll be hiding alongside Lazarus. It’s our best shot at shutting this thing down and taking them both in alive. Everyone with me so far?”

No objections.

“Good. Then let’s get to work. Montoya, you’re with me. We’ll go in through the front while Blake goes through the back, and meet up in the middle. The rest of you, stay sharp. I know things have been more than tough recently, but we can’t give up now. A lotta lives are depending on our success, and if we don’t capture Lazarus soon, that man could literally destroy Gotham. We cannot let that happen. Do whatever it takes to bring that bastard down, and keep those gas masks on. Even with a reliable cure on our hands, I’d rather not risk it. Got it? Let’s move!”

~~~~~~~~~~

THE FUNHOUSE

Cautiously prowling through the kookily-themed horror palace, I flicked my eyes around in fear that a clown would ambush us at any given second, feeling just a bit unnerved by the morbid decorations. 

Surrounding us, there were decapitated mannequins hanging from the ceiling, paintings that seemed to move every time you looked at them, wooden stairs leading to nowhere, and the word “HAHA” had been splattered all over the walls. The disorienting green and purple spirals of light certainly didn’t help, and the further we roamed into this “fun” house, the stronger my urge to leave became. This was the perfect place for Lazarus and Joker. 

“Commissioner,” Montoya said quietly as she scanned the area with her gun, “can I ask you something?”

“Sure thing,” I answered. “What’s on your mind? Y’know, aside from all this.”

Renee’s expression hardened with concern. 

“I was just wondering. If we--” she paused, “--When we capture Lazarus today...what will you do with him?”

I quirked a brow. “Well, I’ll arrest him, of course.”

“No,” she corrected. “I mean, will you give him the cure? Or will you do what Waller wants and simply throw him in Arkham?”

I thought back to my discussion with Blake, letting out a conflicted sigh.

“I’ll be honest with you, Renee. I don’t know. Bruce doesn’t deserve this type of insanity -- that’s for sure -- but part of me questions if the cure would even help him at this point. Imagine waking up from the most god-awful nightmare you’ve ever had, and then finding out it was reality...and that you were responsible for it all. How would you deal with that type of guilt? How would you forgive yourself? It would destroy someone like Bruce. That’s not something I want to put him through. Waller thinks he’d be better of if we just shot him.”

Montoya’s gaze sank to the floor. “I-I guess you’re right. But...what do we do then? We can’t just let the virus live inside him. That’s what started this whole mess in the first place!”

I pushed open a door and took a brief look around, checking to see if there were any threats before responding.

“Well, whatever we do, the final decision rests with Alfred. He’s the closest thing to a parent Bruce has, and I imagine he’d want a say or two in the matter. Until then, let’s keep our minds on finding that son-of-a-bitch.”

Renee nodded. “Right behind you.”

Out of nowhere, a barred gate suddenly dropped between the two of us and hit the floor with a metallic thud, separating me and Montoya into different sides as a cackle emitted from the speakers placed around the Funhouse, quaking off the walls.

“--And she’ll stay right behind you!”

I instantly recognized the voice, causing my nose to crinkle in anger.

Joker.

“Jim!” Montoya exclaimed as she grabbed for the bars, only to leap back in pain with a loud zap. The bars were electric.

Joker let out a chuckle. “Oops! Forgot to mention that. Sorry! But hey, life is learning. Wouldn’t you agree? Hehehe!”

I glared at the speaker, simultaneously trying to find a way out of the trap as Renee clutched her injured hand.

“What do you want, Joker?!” I demanded, earning an insincere thanks. 

“Oh, how very kind of you to ask, Jimbo. Well, it would just be a delight and a half if you could grip those bars in front of you...and let me ZAP YOU TO A CRISP!”

The sudden escalation in Joker’s voice sent a screech through his microphone, piercing both mine and Montoya’s ears as the clown took a series of deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. 

He exhaled through his nose. 

“...But unfortunately,” Joker sighed dramatically, “that isn’t on Lazarus’ agenda for today. No...the man wants a word with you first, Commissioner. After all, I’m sure you have many questions for him, too. Oh, but don’t worry. I’ll take...good care of your friend here.”

I crossed my arms and scoffed. “Do you honestly expect me to just believe you?”

Joker’s tone darkened. “...You don’t have a choice. And besides, Lazarus has one hell of a show planned for you. It would be rude for me to kill half his audience before it even starts! So, go on! Enjoy the show! And be sure to give him a standing ovation. He put a lot of effort into this, y’know. I’d hate for it to go unnoticed.”

Remotely opening a door behind me, Joker revealed a spinning tunnel just up ahead which seemed to lead into another section of the Funhouse, painting the room with blue and pink lights as he continued to taunt me.

“The only way out of this trap, Gordon...is in.”

Taking a look inside the rotating hallway, I felt my heart do a little dance as I thought about what could possibly be waiting on the other side, my head torn with dilemma. 

There was no way I’d trust a lunatic like Joker to look after Montoya, and despite her being one of the best cops on the force, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone in the middle of this hellhole. Joker had already proven he had no problems in harming us, and Montoya had an injured hand. What was to stop him from killing her?

Glancing at Renee out of hesitance, I saw the woman give me a reassuring gaze through the bars while she clenched her wounded fist, obviously still in some pain from the shock.

“It’s okay, Jim,” she said with confidence. “Go. I can take care of myself. You just find a way to get us out of here.”

“Yes, Jim,” Joker pushed. “Go. Montoya and I will be waiting right here. That is...if you make it back. AHAHA!”

Ignoring the jester’s teases, I reluctantly turned away from the barred separator and headed in my own direction, delving deep into the neon-colored tunnel as the world began to spin around me.

So far, there was no sign of Blake or his men, and I hadn’t spotted any corpses lying around to tell me they had failed in their mission. It was just me, Montoya, and a pair of maniacs trying to play God. I only hoped I had what it took to survive their twisted, little game. Gotham had suffered enough over the past week, and regardless of how people thought we should approach Lazarus, it was safe to say we all agreed he had to be stopped in some way.

I just prayed he didn’t take us down with him.

~~~~~~~~~~

THE MAIN ROOM

Making my way out of the tunnel, I carefully entered the new room and aimed my gun in about eight different directions, taking every step with a colossal amount of care. I had no earthly idea what Lazarus was planning for me, and the fact that Joker was so excited about it certainly didn’t ease my nerves. That freak only ever found joy in the pain and misery of others, and I doubted there was actually going to be anything funny about the upcoming situation.

Venturing further into the new area, the silence broke as two gunshots suddenly erupted from behind me when an unknown assailant shot both of my legs, sending me collapsing to the floor in excruciating pain. 

For a moment, I simply sat in my own pooling blood, hissing through gritted teeth as the room around me grew gradually darker. My gun had slipped out of my grasp and across the floor, and with every passing second, my vision blurred more and more.

But then I realized -- I wasn’t blacking out. Whoever else was in here had shut off all the lights save for one in the center, leaving a lone spotlight just above me. It almost looked like an interrogation room.

Slithering over to me, I heard a ghostly chain of footsteps emerge from inside the shadows as they steadily crept in my direction, making sure I couldn’t see their face. 

There was no greeting. No over-the-top introduction like Joker, no caged walls, no traps placed around me...

Instead, all I got for a welcoming was a freshly sharpened blade pressed against my neck, and a gentle hand resting on my back. Even though the strength behind the knife wasn’t enough to draw blood, I could still feel how tempted my captor was to slit my throat...but they didn’t.

In the end, all they did...was pose a question.

“Tell me,” my captor nearly whispered, his tone almost sounding empty, “...what do you see?”

I gazed down at my legs, still squirming from the boiling sensation as the pain continued to spread. It had only been a few moments, but my clothes were already stained solid red, and my pants clung to me with a disgustingly wet, sticky grip.

“Blood,” I grunted out, unsure of what else to say. “It’s...everywhere.”

My captor thought about the answer for a second.

“...And what do you feel?”

“Pain.”

“What type of pain?” He specified. “Emotional? Physical? ...Both?”

I grew frustrated. “What difference does it make? What are you getting at?”

The hand on my back tightened. “Whether it’s in your mind or in your blood, you’re still hurting, Commissioner. Now...for the final question: how would you stop the pain?”

I shrugged, feeling slightly suspicious at how simple the question seemed.

“...I dunno -- remove the bullets?”

The captor’s hold on my back disappeared, and within just a few paces, the man was standing in front of me, towering over my body like a stretched-out shadow lurking on the wall. 

“Exactly,” Lazarus agreed. “In order to get rid of the pain, you would destroy the source. Is it really so difficult for you to understand my motives, Gordon? I understand that destroying Gotham is an...unpleasant...and rather bloody process, but it is necessary. All I’m trying to do is extract the bullet from the wound, but you won’t let me...! Because it hurts. Because you’d rather deal with the pain later than now.”

I was appalled by the comparison. “That is not the same thing. Your ‘extraction’ is taking innocent lives! The lives of civilians! If anyone’s the bullet here, Lazarus, it’s you.”

Unconvinced, he crouched down to my level and stared straight through my glasses, leaning dangerously close to my face.

“...But who pulled the trigger?”

Even with his bandana on, I could still tell Lazarus was grinning underneath as he carried on rambling.

“Take a look around you, Gordon,” he inquired, gesturing at nothing. “Look at what Gotham has become. Yes, I’ve killed people, but how many have you sent to their deaths simply by pursuing me? You want to play the hero so bad, but you don’t realize we’re two parts of the same tornado.”

When I said nothing in response, Lazarus only shook his head and stared at the floor in disappointment, wandering away from me for a minute.

“I’ve tried warning you people time and time again...” he ranted, “but you just won’t listen. Because you don’t want to believe it. This is a cycle that cannot be broken.”

“What...what are you talking about?” I asked, doing my best to speak through the pain. I couldn’t believe I was actually trying to make sense of his lunacy.

Lazarus started to roam towards me again, his tone fuming with more venom than ever.

“When your people started calling me ‘Lazarus,” he explained, “they weren’t naming me. They were putting a label on the faceless corruption that every human being carries. It’s a corruption that can be killed, but will never truly die. In the end...we can only pass it on.”

Lazarus put a hand on his chest. 

“The fire that burns in me has already sparked within many other people. I’ve seen it. Take your friend Agent Blake, for example. That man has a lot more in common with me than he’s probably willing to admit. And so does Tiffany. You can kill me all you like, Gordon, but Lazarus will return in some shape or form, and the chaos will continue. You can fight till the end of time if you wish, but that won’t change a thing.”

“You’re wrong,” I snapped back. “There will always be good in the world, whether you choose to see or not. Peace can be an option. It doesn’t always have to end like this.”

“But it does have to end!”

Kneeling down so he was face-to-face with me, Bruce slipped out his pistol and used the barrel to tilt my chin up, forcing me to look at him as he pointed a finger to his infected skin.

“Don’t you understand? I’m not capable of destroying this city because of my money, or my technology, or even my power. The only reason I’m capable of destroying Gotham...” he flipped the finger over to me, “...is because all of you...are capable of becoming me.”

Lazarus fell silent for a short while, allowing everything he just said to sink in as he cocked his gun, preparing to kill me. At the moment, I could see no obvious way out of this situation, and even if Montoya did somehow manage to escape her own trap, part of me feared that I would bleed to death before she could do anything. I just hoped Blake arrived in time.

“You know,” the madman continued, “I will say I’m surprised Director Waller isn’t with you. Normally, she’s the first one to knock down my door when I make so much as a squeak...and yet, here you are. All alone. And I haven’t heard any news of her death. Did she finally get the message I’ve been trying to send? Or has she just decided Gotham is no longer worth saving?”

“She’s in the hospital,” I responded. “But you can bet your ass she won’t give up on this fight. Waller’s a woman you can’t take down, Lazarus.”

He scoffed. “People said the same thing about Batman.”

Pausing for a second, I suddenly recalled my discussion with Waller where she was about to tell me something regarding the vigilante. Right before the attack on City Hall. Based on the way the Director spoke, it sounded like Batman was still alive, but I could no longer depend my hope or suspicions alone. I needed clarification. I needed the truth.

“Lazarus,” I called vehemently, snatching his attention. “There’s something I need to know. Something that’s been bothering me for a long time...something only you can answer.”

That piqued his interest.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

I took a deep breath and braced myself, admittedly scared shitless about what the other man would tell me. 

“It’s Batman,” I said my voice trembling slightly. “He’s been quiet for so long, and no one’s found any sign of him over the past week. No evidence, no traces, no corpse. Nothing. It’s like he’s vanished. Please, Lazarus. I...I need to know where Batman is. I need to know if he’s still alive. I need to know...if you killed him.”

He peered at me with curiosity, obviously surprised by the question.

“...Waller hasn’t told you?” Was all he said.

“Told me what?” I persisted. “What has she been keeping from me all this time? What have you been keeping from Gotham...?! Just say something, goddammit!”

Lazarus lowered his gun temporarily, unsure of how to broach the subject.

“Well, figuratively speaking,” he stated, “Batman is dead. I can assure you that.”

The answer threw me off-guard. 

“Figuratively speaking?” I repeated in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “W-What about...physically?”

His expression turned grim.

“Physically speaking...” a look of remorse filled Lazarus’ dead eyes, “...Batman is alive.”

A wave of relief washed over me.

“I knew it!” I muttered. “I knew Batman would survive. That man’s practically invincible. There’s no way someone would be able to kill him.”

Unfortunately, my relief was quickly replaced by a sense of doubt.

“But how do I know you’re not just telling me what I want to hear? How do I know you didn’t pull this out of your ass just now? What reason do I have to trust you?”

Lazarus slowly turned his head towards me, appearing much more solemn than before. Despite everything he’d done, my gut told me he was being sincere for once. There was just...something about the way he reacted to Batman’s name that tipped me off. Something that said he was speaking the truth. I decided to hear him out for now, and waited in suspense as he organized his thoughts.

Glaring directly at me, Lazarus remained unwavering in his cold, iron stare and steadily approached me, never breaking eye contact. I had a bad feeling about where this was going, and with every step the other man took, the more I found myself mentally backing away.

“...Because, Gordon,” he replied in a mournful manner, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. He knelt down once again, coming face-to-face with me.

There was a short pause.

“...I was Batman.”


	15. Beginning of the End

From Gordon’s POV

THE FUNHOUSE

I remained frozen in place, completely paralyzed by the confession.

Shock, denial, and grief all scrambled my thoughts as I tried to comprehend what I just heard, my legs trembling out of pain and fear.

D-Did Bruce just say...he was Batman? 

No, I thought to myself, shaking my head in disbelief. There was no way. There was no way in hell someone like Bruce Wayne could’ve been Batman. This had to be another trick, just like when he claimed he killed the vigilante. He had to be playing mind games with me again. He had to. But...what if he wasn’t lying? What if he was actually telling the truth? God, I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“I know it’s hard to take in,” Lazarus taunted, standing back up, “but the truth is, Commissioner, Batman was right in front of you this whole time. Gotham killed its own hero, and it doesn’t even realize it. How does it feel, Gordon? To hunt down the very man you once idolized?”

I refused to believe him.

“Give me one reason why I should trust you,” I practically growled. “A man like you could never be Batman. Give me one good reason why this isn’t all bullshit.”

He nodded in an “you asked for it” manner and began pacing around the room, listing off every single detail I’d ever missed.

“Well,” Lazarus started, “if I’m not Batman, then how do I know he interrogated Riddler’s lieutenant off the record? Hm? How do I know that he called you instead of Waller at the GCPD Arsenal, and supported you in every confrontation with the Director? How do I know you asked him...to arrest me? There’s a reason Batman didn’t assist you at Wayne Enterprises, Gordon. It’s because he was too busy being its CEO.”

Lazarus suddenly lowered his pitch and addressed me in a disturbingly familiar voice, smirking deviously the whole time.

“...Isn’t that right, Jim?”

I came to a halt. 

H-Holy hell.

...It...it really was him.

Even if I hadn’t seen Batman in over a week, I still would’ve recognized his intimidating voice anywhere. 

And that was definitely his voice.

Lazarus let out an amused chuckle and casually pointed his gun at me, inching closer and closer to the trigger.

“Yeah. Bad guys are pretty easy to kill. Until you realize they’re human.”

He tightened his hold on the gun a bit more, steadying the aim slightly. 

“Then, the world starts to turn grey. There’s no longer a wrong or right. No angel or devil sitting on your shoulders. You start to wonder how someone exactly like you...could’ve turned into a monster like that.”

Lazarus paused for a second and simply gazed at me, his brow furrowing in nostalgia.

“It’s simple. Take one look at the world through another man’s eyes, and next thing you know, he’s not as crazy as you thought. I know you think I’m the Devil himself, but guess what? He used to be an angel too, once. Even the divine aren’t immune to corruption, so what makes you think you can save Gotham?”

Gritting my teeth, I tried my best to speak through the pain and glared at Lazarus, feeling weaker and weaker by the minute.

“My job isn’t to eradicate the corruption in this city,” I argued. “That’s...that’s impossible. There will always be bad in Gotham no matter how hard I fight. But my job is to protect people from that corruption. And that’s why I always saw you as a hero. Because unlike everyone else, you never gave up on Gotham. You never stopped fighting for it, no matter how much it threw at you. You were the best thing to ever happen to this city, Batman. But then...that goddamn virus just had to come along, and turn you into...this. We can still save you, Bruce. They found a proper cure for Lotus. We can bring you back. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Even with the newfound knowledge of a cure, Lazarus still ignored me.

“I don’t need saving,” he refused. “I’ve done too much to back down now. And it’s clear to me that you’re not going to change your ways either. That’s why...” he cocked the gun, “it’s time for you to go.”

He paused for a second, taking a deep breath.

“It’s been one hell of an adventure, running around Gotham with you, Jim,” he reminisced. “But like every other journey, there has to be a destination...and I’m afraid you’ve reached yours. Goodbye, Gordon. I’ll make sure there’s something to bury.”

I tightly shut my eyes and braced for what was coming as my heart hammered in my chest, nearly bursting through. I never thought about what it’d be like to come face-to-face with death itself, but now that I was here...I was terrified. And so far, I couldn’t see a way out.

Just before Lazarus could pull the trigger however, a miracle occurred as Joker’s voice suddenly burst from the speakers in an alarmed tone, interrupting us.

“What the--?!” He exclaimed. “How did you get in here?! Wait! No! Bruce! Watch ou--”

Whirling around in confusion, Lazarus seemed to completely forget about me as he took a moment to examine his surroundings, ten times more alert than before. There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the room -- yet -- and the only sound that could be heard was my heavy breathing.

That was, until a bullet was fired from out of nowhere, missing Lazarus’ head by mere centimeters.

Darting towards the source of the gunshot, I felt a wave of relief wash over me as Montoya bolted into the room, charging at Lazarus like an angry bull. Other than her slightly burnt hand, she didn’t seem to have any other obvious injuries, and I had no idea how she managed to escape Joker’s trap. But that didn’t matter right now. All I cared about was getting the hell out of this Funhouse.

Throwing each other around, Lazarus and Renee fought to the death like there was no tomorrow as the madman pulled out a combat knife, slicing violently in her direction and tearing the fabric of her uniform. He appeared to be somewhat thrown off-guard by the abrupt intrusion, but effortlessly adapted to the situation and did everything he could to prevent Montoya from reaching me. Meanwhile, I simply watched the battle from a distance, unable to help due to my legs.

The way Lazarus handled himself, it brought back memories of how Batman used to fight. Every punch, every kick, every step was identical to the vigilante, and regardless of how much I wanted to deny it, the truth was clear as day. Lazarus was Batman all along, and I didn’t even realize until it was too late. 

How did I miss it? I wondered to myself. All the clues were there. Alfred’s connection to both Bruce and Batman, the vigilante never showing up to investigate the CEO, and most of all, Batman’s disappearance when Lazarus first rose to power. It was so obvious. 

I guessed, deep down, part of me always knew who he really was. Or at least, suspected it. I had just never been able to bring myself to accept it. I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that a maniac like Lazarus was Batman’s legacy. I mean, the irony was almost laughable. 

The man who once dedicated his life to saving Gotham...was now doing everything in his power to decimate its very existence. I knew this city was full of surprises, but never in my life did I think I’d see something like this. And I hoped we’d never have to see it again.

Breaking me out of my thoughts, Montoya let out a pained groan and stumbled to the floor after Lazarus impaled her leg with his blade, rendering her completely immobile. Just as I expected though, Renee didn’t give up easily and still tried to fight back even in her vulnerable position, but was instantly stopped when the barrel of a gun was pressed against her temple. Lazarus shook his head in disappointment.

“You should’ve stayed with Joker,” he scolded, panting slightly. “But I guess the GCPD will never learn from their mistakes, will they?” Lazarus practically dug the pistol into Montoya’s skull, gazing over at me. “Hopefully, this will be enough to teach them a lesson.”

“LAZARUS!”

Halting at the sound of his name, the man stayed in place and slowly glanced behind his shoulder, only to spot Agent Blake entering from the opposite side of the room...with Joker in his grip. And a gun aimed at the clown’s head.

“Surrender now,” Blake ordered, “and I promise no harm will come to your friend here. Otherwise, you can kiss this green-haired freak goodbye.”

I stared at Blake in bewilderment, struggling to keep myself upright.

“...What are you doing...?!” I yelled across the room. The agent didn’t even look at me.

“Saving your asses,” he bluntly replied. “That’s what.”

Steadily approaching Lazarus, Blake continued to drag Joker along with him as he shoved the firearm in his face, restraining himself from blowing the guy’s brains out.

“Put the gun down, Wayne,” the agent demanded, “and come with us. Refuse, and I’ll be forced to do what we should’ve done from the start! Believe me. I will not hesitate. This is your only chance.”

Joker tried to pry his way out of Blake’s hold, but to no avail. He threw a frightened glance at Lazarus, silently begging him to cooperate.

Looking back and forth from Montoya to Joker, Bruce contemplated the decision for what felt like an eternity as the feral expression disappeared from his face, and he seemed to soften a bit. Lazarus was clearly torn by the dilemma, and with every passing second, I could see him reluctantly distancing himself more and more from Renee.

Blake and I were going to have a serious talk later about taking our own prisoners hostage, but for the moment, it was actually working. 

Lazarus rose to his feet without saying a word and turned his back to Montoya, reassuring Joker with a warm look that was backed up by defeat. Even though the two of them weren’t communicating aloud, I could almost hear Bruce apologizing to his friend as his head hung low in shame, unable to cope with finally being cornered.

Just as I thought things were going to be okay however, the compassion in Lazarus’ eyes vanished like a candle being blown out, and his ferocity sparked right back to life.

He glared at Agent Blake, pointing the pistol directly at Renee.

“...Do what you want with him.”

Before any of us could react, Lazarus fired a bullet straight into Montoya’s head with a deafening bang, spraying blood all over his suit and the floor as everyone gaped in shock at the morbid scene.

“MONTOYA!” I shouted out of grief, desperately crawling towards her. 

But she was already gone. Just like that. 

Without a second thought, Lazarus began sprinting away to freedom and escaped the Funhouse, causing Blake to start chasing after him.

“Let him go!” I commanded, stopping him mid-action. “We have the Joker. Let’s keep it that way.”

“But--”

“I said leave him!” I reiterated, my voice gruff with exhaustion. “There are other things we need to deal with first, anyway. We’ll catch him later. For now...” I gazed down at Montoya’s lifeless corpse, unable to look away as the grotesque image branded itself into my mind, “...we’ve got a lot of families to call.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Alfred’s POV

GCPD, COMMISSIONER’S OFFICE

ONE HOUR LATER

Knocking lightly on the Commissioner’s door, I straightened my tie and glasses before entering the office, only to find none other than Director Waller sitting at the desk instead. I came to an abrupt stop, a bit surprised by the familiar face.

“Director Waller?”

She chuckled, noticing my expression. “Expecting Gordon?”

“I was informed you were in the hospital,” I explained. “Are you sure you’re fit to get back to work?”

Waller waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve stayed in the hospital for long enough. Besides, Gordon’s been injured. He was shot in the legs by Bruce. Doctors say he might never walk again -- not without a cane, at least. And if we don’t capture Lazarus soon, many more will be joining him. On top of all that, I’ve received word that we finally managed to arrest John Doe. It’s about damn time. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get some info out of him, and then toss that murderer back in Arkham where he belongs. Shame Montoya was killed, though.”

The news hit me like a kick to the stomach, and I found my voice faltering for a few moments.

“Officer Montoya was...killed?” I repeated. Waller gave me a grim nod.

“According to Blake, Wayne just shot her in cold blood. He also gave Doe up so he could escape. I’ll be honest, I’m surprised Bruce was willing to throw away his only ally. I was under the impression that the two of them were close.”

I sighed sorrowfully. “Perhaps John and Bruce were. Lazarus however...”

Waller grimaced in understanding. “That man holds no love for anyone. And for the first time, I think it’s actually helped us. Even though we’ve still got a lot of work to do, I’ll sleep better knowing Doe’s behind bars. But we can’t lock him up just yet.”

Standing up from her chair, the Director marched towards the office’s exit, adjusting her suit on the way.

“I’m off to the interrogation. Blake’s already down there, trying to loosen him up. Care to join us? It is your son we’re trying to find, after all.”

I held the door open for Waller, politely escorting her out.

“I’m here to help, Director. Whatever you need.”

~~~~~~~~~~

INTERROGATION ROOM

Entering the grey, dimly-lit room, Waller and I found Agent Blake sitting across from John at a metal table, his brow furrowed in frustration. Judging by his annoyance, he wasn’t getting much out of the jester, and despite having two new people to deal with, John didn’t seem to give a single care. Instead, his head only drooped with heartbreak, and for a man who laughed so much, his frown was definitely a rare sight. This was going to be tricky.

“I don’t understand why you’re protecting him,” Blake told John. “Wayne betrayed you. Don’t you want him to face justice? If you tell us what his next step is, the Agency can make that happen. We can make him pay.”

John turned away from him, hiding his face in the shadows. “I don’t wanna do this anymore...! And I definitely don’t want to see Bruce EVER again. That bastard used me. Tricked me. Made me look like a fool! I should’ve known from the start that he didn’t care about us! I’m telling you, it’s that Wayne Charm. Gets you every time...”

Blake slammed his palms on the table, glaring viciously at the clown.

“Dammit, John! Millions of lives are at risk with Wayne on the loose. Including yours. We need to know what he’s planning. Otherwise, Gotham could be history within just a few days.”

John’s despondency turned into rage.

“Well, maybe that’s for the best! I dunno if you’ve noticed, Agent, but this city’s a pretty terrible place! I may hate Bruce’s guts now, but if he wants to blow Gotham to hell, he’ll get no argument from me.”

Blake persisted in his interrogation, continuing to throw more pressure on John.

“It’s Bruce’s fault that your Pact fell apart. It’s his fault that we were able to arrest Harley. And it’s his fault you’re here now. Everything you’ve ever cared about, everyone you’ve ever loved...is all gone because of him. And in just a few hours here, you’ll be sent back to a padded cell...where you should be. Because. Of. Him. Would you rather spend the rest of your days in Arkham knowing that Bruce defeated you? Or are you gonna go down with a fight?”

That seemed to grab John’s attention -- for now, at least -- and his green eyes flicked back to Blake, observing him closely.

“...You know,” John said, staring aimlessly at the agent, “Bruce always talked about Gotham like a jigsaw puzzle. He said he’d take it apart, piece by piece. Undo the whole picture, until there was nothing left. And of course, the most important piece...is the first one.”

Blake didn’t follow. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He questioned.

John laughed, his shoulders shaking in unison. “That’s the whole point of a puzzle, genius. You’re supposed to figure it out. Hehe! Find the starting point. Ask yourself...where was the first piece laid down? Where did it all begin?”

After a moment of backtracking, Waller’s face lit up with realization, and I could almost see a lightbulb flickering awake above her head. 

“Wayne Enterprises.” She concluded.

Was it, though?

I thought about the riddle for a little while longer, and if I was being honest, Wayne Enterprises just...didn’t sound right to me. That may have been where Bruce was infected, yes, but it wasn’t the start of all this. 

The morgue, perhaps? Or the experimental lab? Maybe even City Hall. There were a hundred different places that could’ve been considered as the beginning to these events, depending on one’s interpretation. Question was, where did Bruce think it all rooted from?

Looking back through all the years, a distinct memory suddenly flashed in my mind like a camera, and I finally understood what John was trying to say.

“No,” I blurted out, correcting Waller. “Even further back than that.”

She quirked a brow at me, asking for a suggestion. “And where do you think he’s talking about?”

Part of me hoped I wasn’t right, but seeing as how much Bruce loved his symbolism, the feeling in my gut told me he just wouldn’t go anywhere else. 

I gave the Director a dour, but assuring look, mindlessly lowering my voice.

“...Monarch Theatre.”

Waller slowly began to understand. “Where his parents were murdered...yes, that makes sense.”

Blake brought his focus back to John. “Is that right? Is Bruce planning to destroy Monarch Theatre?”

As usual, the clown didn’t give a straight answer.

“Only one way to find out. Oh, and another thing: I’d keep an ear out for any little beeps. Bruce is quite fond of his little drones. So much that he even shoved one into the Mayor. Hehehe!”

Waller let out a sigh. “Well, it’s our best lead. Blake, send a squad to secure that area ASAP. Evacuate all the civilians around the theater, and have paramedics on board in case anything gets out of hand. This is our last chance to apprehend Wayne. If we fail, Bruce will launch missiles all over the city. And once that storm hits...we won’t be able to stop it.”

Blake immediately got to work. “Right away, Director.”

I took a step back. “Wait, what about Bane? If I recall correctly, that beast was still roaming around Gotham. And with Joker no longer being an option for support, I’m willing to bet Bruce would go to him for help.”

Waller crossed her arms. “Hmm. Well, Bane only worked with Bruce because he was promised a cure for his addiction. If someone were to tell him the Agency has a proper one, there’s a chance we could recruit him temporarily. Until we cross that bridge though, our top priority is going after Wayne.”

“Understood.”

“Wonderful. Then let’s move out. We don’t have long until Wayne puts his plan into action, and I don’t want to even think about the chaos that will follow if he succeeds. Lazarus’ reign of terror has to come to an end.”

Waller pushed the double-doors open, her movements fueled by a determination I hadn’t seen in ages. Before she took her leave though, the Director glanced at me to say one last thing, her expression filled with remorse.

“When we capture Lazarus, it’ll be your decision what happens to him, Alfred. Regardless of what anyone else thinks, just remember to do what you think is best for Gotham -- what you think is best for Bruce. He’s your son, and now, his future is in your hands. Choose wisely.”

My gaze fell to the floor, and I felt the same sense of powerlessness from when Waller announced Montoya’s death. Except this time, it was much more severe.

“I will do my best.” I ensured.

Waller beamed at me, waving what could’ve possibly been her last goodbye. 

“That’s all anyone can do.”


	16. Apocalypse

From Bruce’s POV

MONARCH THEATRE

I stared at the dark, grey sky above me as the strong wind sent leaves scattering all over the rooftop, and heavy rain poured onto the city beneath. 

Even though it was still early in the day, the sun just barely broke through the thick clouds gliding overhead, and cast a single ray of light onto the theater in the distance. It almost felt like the universe was guiding me -- telling me where to strike first. 

I only wished I had listened to it sooner.

Bringing my focus over to the theater, I found myself unable to look away from the entrance as a thousand memories flashed in my head, and I practically relived that horrifying night. 

Despite the fact that over twenty years had flown by, I could almost see my parents gleefully strolling through the doors, completely oblivious to what was awaiting them in the alleyways. It felt like witnessing a train wreck slowly about to happen, and I was powerless to stop it. Just as Waller was powerless to stop today’s events.

Approaching the edge of the rooftop, I glanced downwards and watched as cops hurriedly evacuated civilians away from the perimeter, and agents desperately searched for me, all of them equipped with gas masks and lethal weapons. 

I chuckled to myself.

If they thought gas masks were enough to stop Lotus, they were dead wrong. One prick from the darts loaded in my rifle, and they would be wishing the virus had killed them first. After all, no one said anything about a cure for the modified version. 

The only thing I really had to worry about today was launching the missiles on time. At the moment, some of my drones were still flying to their destinations, and the missiles were being prepared. I just hoped none of the agents interfered before we could set our plan in action. 

Gotham needed to be destroyed, and it needed to happen now.

“Wayne!” Someone called out. 

I turned around, only to see Bane stomping his way up to me. 

“The missiles are ready,” he informed. “All we have to do now is wait for the drones to reach their points, and then we can set off the signal. If anyone tries to interrupt us in the meantime...” Bane looked behind him, smirking at the group of hostages he had gathered, “...we have other ways of dealing with that.”

I followed Bane’s gaze and examined the tied up civilians, steadily prowling towards them as they struggled to break free from their chairs, letting out muffled screams.

One of the hostages in particular caught my attention more than the rest, mainly because of how young he was. 

A little boy. Probably no older than twelve. His feet could barely touch the floor.

Stepping in front of the child, I did nothing but look at him for a few seconds as he stared back with big, innocent eyes, silently begging for me to let him go. 

A morbid thought crossed my mind.

...Was this how Joe Chill saw me? I wondered. Was he...the original Lazarus? The one who sparked the fire? 

I supposed I was right, after all. This was an unbreakable cycle that would always end in death. And no matter how much Gotham tried to fight it, they would never be able to rewrite fate.

Gazing upwards at the storm forming around us, I gestured at the chaotic motion of the clouds and simply listened to the wind, letting it howl like a miserable phantom. The boy waited for me to do something.

“This...” I said, pointing above, “...this is what I saw when Lotus first infected me. The world was spiraling into mayhem, people were in panic, and there was no way out. No way...except through death’s door. You see,” I knelt in front of the boy and glared straight at him, causing whom I assumed was his mother to start wiggling in her seat, “living as Bruce Wayne was too painful. There were too many masks, too many secrets, too many shadows...”

I sighed in a thoughtful manner. “...Can a man truly be living if he’s always living a lie? Everyone thinks Batman was my first kill, but they’re wrong. My first kill...was Bruce Wayne.” 

I shook the boy’s chair slightly. 

“And I’d do it again.”

Pushing myself away from the child, I walked over to Bane who was calling for me and gave him a questioning look, wondering what was happening.

Bane frowned in concern. “Bruce, the agents are closing in on us. They detected one of the signals, but they’re still trying to figure out where the drone is. I say we stop them before they have a chance to find it.”

I nodded in agreement. “We can’t risk the Agency interrupting us again. If they catch us today, it’s over. Get down there and ‘talk’ some sense into them, would you?”

The luchador smirked and cracked his knuckles.

“With pleasure.”

~~~~~~~~~

From Alfred’s POV

INSIDE MONARCH THEATRE

Entering the old theater alongside Director Waller, a wave of tragic memories began to wash over me, and I couldn’t help but feel much more despondent than before. 

I never actually returned to the theater or Park Row after Thomas and Martha were killed, but coming back here after all those years just...made me question everything we were doing. And more importantly -- if we were doing the right thing.

I still remembered comforting Bruce after the murder. 

Trying to explain to a little boy that one event would haunt him for the rest of his life...wasn’t exactly an easy task. And to watch him grow up and battle every obstacle that came his way -- it made me the proudest man in Gotham. 

Against all odds, I had raised Bruce to become a formidable, noble young man...

...only to see him come crashing down once again, due to a single virus. 

Yes, I was aware Bruce had killed people. Yes, I was aware of all the damage he had caused, and yes...I was aware he probably despised me. 

But despite everything “Lazarus” had done, I still couldn’t bring myself to wish death upon him. In reality, all I wanted more than anything was simply a second chance. A chance to give Bruce the life he deserved, and a chance to give him the happiness that had slipped through his fingers for so long. Lord knew he had earned it.

“Agent Fox!” Waller barked, marching up to the woman. “What’s the situation?”

Tiffany lowered her tablet for a moment. “We’ve detected a signal identical to the one Wayne used at City Hall, but we’re still trying to locate the drone itself. Bruce hid them well.”

Her eyes suddenly flicked over to me, causing her to shake her head in bewilderment.

“Wait, Alfred...?! What are you doing here? You should be at home. It’s too dangerous here. Bruce could strike at any second if we don’t disable that signal, and I don’t want you to get hurt if that happens! He’s using missiles, for God’s sake. You need to leave.”

I insisted on staying. “Don’t worry about me, Tiffany. I’ll be quite all right.”

“But, Alfred--”

“--I appreciate your concern,” I said, “but Bruce is my son, therefore he is my responsibility. I was there when his childhood was stolen from him, and I won’t abandon him while the virus takes away the rest of his life. I’m sorry, Tiffany, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Waller chuckled lightly. “Well, I can see where Wayne gets his stubbornness. But the fact remains: Gordon and I agreed that Alfred would have the final say in Bruce’s fate. After all, his situation is an...unorthodox one, and we will have to take unorthodox measures to defeat him. Alfred stays, and that’s final.”

Tiffany gave me a depressing smile. “...I understand. I’m just sorry you have to be the one to choose.”

I sighed, looking around the decrepit theater. “Trust me, you’re not the only one.”

Waller changed the subject, getting back to business. “You mentioned you detected a signal around here?”

Tiffany returned to the tablet and tapped all over the screen, letting her finger hop across the surface. “Yes, but our people are having trouble pinpointing the source.”

Waller pushed her glasses up her nose. “Then I suggest you get to work on finding it. You saw the impact those missiles had on City Hall. We cannot let the same thing happen to the rest of Gotham. These people are counting on us.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” The Director began addressing the rest of the agents, shouting commands throughout the area. “Listen up, people! Do whatever it takes to find and disable that signal. If those missiles hit this theater, everything and everyone in this district will be history. So let’s get a move on!”

Agents immediately started scrambling in all different directions as they searched the theater top-to-bottom, frantically trying to locate the drone before time ran out. All around me, I could see signs of panic, determination, and most of all -- a want for revenge. 

With the amount of people Bruce had murdered by this point, it really wouldn’t have surprised me if everyone in this room had lost someone to his trail of death. These days, there wasn’t a single news channel that didn’t talk about Lazarus, and when civilians started paying more attention to the obituaries than the front page, I knew Gotham had fallen into turmoil. 

I just prayed that the next article about Bruce would focus on his arrest.

“Alfred,” Waller said, grabbing my attention. “Along the way here, I received word from some nearby civilians that a number of their friends and family went missing. I suspect Wayne has taken hostages, and I’ll be damned if we let them get hurt. Considering your involvement with Batman’s detective work, I thought you and Blake would be best suited to look into this lead. Think you can manage?”

I nodded firmly. “Of course, Director.”

“Thank you, Alfred. Blake’s waiting outside. He’s already gathered some information that could tell us who these hostages are and where Bruce is holding them. Good luck.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Trekking through the relentless rain, I hurried my way across the soaked streets and rushed over to Blake who was examining a building about four blocks away, his brow furrowed in concentration. He was currently crouched on the concrete and looking over a random purse that had fallen on the ground. I waved at him, getting his attention.

“Agent Blake,” I called out, stepping onto the pavement. “Waller informed me we were to search for the hostages?”

The man’s head jolted in my direction, and he immediately jogged towards me with the purse in hand, clearly jittery about something.

“Alfred! There you are,” Blake brought his voice down, checking to make sure no one else was around. “Listen, I asked Waller for your help specifically because I didn’t want Tiffany seeing any of this.”

I grew suspicious. “...And why is that?”

Blake gave me a grim expression, pulling out an ID from the purse. “One of the hostages is her mother, Tanya Fox. And since Tiffany’s told me she never leaves the house without her son, I can only assume her brother, Luke, is another one.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, good Lord...”

“We have to find them. Avesta, Montoya, and even the goddamn Mayor are all dead because of me. I won’t let that maniac kill anyone else. Especially not Tiffany’s family.”

“Then we’d better hurry,” I said. “Any ideas on where they could be?”

Blake pointed at the sky. “Yeah. On the roof. Problem is, Bruce broke the elevator and collapsed the stairs. We’re not reaching them on foot.”

Following that statement, I gazed at the adjacent building and pointed my eyes at the rooftop, formulating a plan in my head. It didn’t take long for Blake to catch on.

“Hold on, hold on...” he hesitated, “you want to jump across from another roof? I know the buildings are tightly packed in this district, but that gap is still pretty wide. One wrong step and you’ll come crashing down. Besides, there’s also the fact that you’re, uh...you know...”

I pretended to be offended, grinning on the inside as I teased Blake.

“What, too old?”

He shrugged. 

“You won’t be able to decide the rest of Bruce’s life if you’ve already ended yours.”

I let out a chuckle. “Don’t fuss. I may not be weak, but I know my limits. Which is why I won’t be making the jump.”

Blake went quiet for a second before his eyes popped open with realization.

“What? I...oh, shit. All right. Okay. Yeah. I-I can do this.”

I quirked a brow, my grin growing wider. “Why, Agent...are you afraid of heights?”

“No,” he replied a bit too quickly. “Everyone’s afraid of plummeting to their death. It’s not a phobia, it’s common sense.”

“Well, of course.”

Blake’s face flattened out of annoyance. “Look, it’s most likely that Bruce is guarding these hostages very closely. If I’m going to rescue them, then someone else has to make sure he doesn’t see me.”

“True,” I agreed. “We’re going to need a distraction. Question is: what?”

Before either of us could begin thinking of options, we both heard a pair of abnormally heavy footsteps storming their way towards us and turned around in fear, only to find none other than Bane himself stalking in our direction from the other end of the street.

The luchador lowly snickered, bashing his colossal fists together.

“I’m going to enjoy this...”

Blake practically leaped in front of me and brandished his pistol at the other man, ordering him to stand down.

“Bane...!” He exclaimed. “That’s close enough. One more step and I will shoot. I doubt you’ve forgotten the punch these guns pack.”

Bane growled at that. “The Agency wanted to use me as a slave! Waller treated me like a dog! But Bruce, he set me free. And now...he wants you dead. I will happily oblige.”

Blake fired a warning shot at the luchador’s feet.

“Bane, I’m not screwing around here! Bruce is lying to you. I know you only work with him because he’s promised to cure your Venom addiction, but the truth is, he can’t. Just like the Riddler couldn’t.”

Bane wasn’t convinced. “Ha, you think you can fool me that easily? Riddler was a survivor of Lotus, just like Bruce. If Riddler’s blood could be turned into a cure, so can his.”

The agent shook his head. “That’s my point! Neither Riddler nor Bruce can cure you. Not completely, at least. All their blood can do is get rid of your addiction. Once it’s done repairing any physical damage however, Lotus will destroy your brain chemistry. You’ll be as crazy as Bruce is! Why do you think he lost his mind after Wayne Enterprises? It was Lotus!”

The luchador paused at that. “Wait...what?”

“Yeah,” Blake confirmed. “Your ‘friend’ has been using you all along. And trust me, if it comes down to it, Bruce will not hesitate to sacrifice you. He gave up John Doe to us, for chrissake. You think you’re any different?”

Bane was clearly torn by the discovery and fell silent for a moment, contemplating what to do next. 

Blake took a few tentative steps forward and approached the man, gun still in hand.

“Listen to me, Bane. Even though you hate us, the Agency is capable of curing you. We’ve developed a proper cure. They’ve already tested it on other patients and it works. Your addiction will be gone and you’ll preserve your sanity, but I can only offer you this option if you stand down. So what do you say?”

Bane seemed to calm down temporarily and halted in his tracks, thinking deeply about everything he just heard. It was obvious he didn’t entirely trust the Agency yet, but the idea of truly being cured certainly hooked his attention, and for the first time in history, he actually remained civil. I supposed Blake was more persuasive than I thought.

The luchador ended up deciding against his original plans to ambush us and appeared to relax, accepting Blake’s offer.

“...All right,” Bane finally concurred. “I’ll help you, but if anyone tries anything funny, this alliance will be--”

The man suddenly let out a pained grunt and fell towards the concrete, causing me and Blake to freeze out of confusion. For a while, Bane simply stayed on the ground and roughly grasped at his throat, almost as if he were choking on something.

At first, Blake and I had no idea what was going on and exchanged dumbfounded looks, unsure of what to do. That was when I noticed a peculiar, orange dart sticking out of Bane’s neck...and a masked sniper perched on the roof above him.

“You think you can turn my own people against me?” The sniper shouted down at us. I instantly recognized his voice. It was Bruce. 

“Then you’re bigger fools than I thought. By the end of today, all of Gotham will look like this, and there’s shit you can do about it! Good luck, agents. I wish you a swift death.”

Scurrying away from the edge, Bruce returned to wherever his base was and left us to our fate, disappearing from sight.

Meanwhile, Bane let out an agonized roar and began to mutate into a horrifying mass of muscle as his eyes turned bloodshot and veins rose from his skin, pumping with a raging shade of red. Parts of his clothes ripped due to the increased size, and the more the virus implanted itself into his system, the more Bane’s shadow towered over our figures. 

“Oh my god...” Blake breathed out. He gripped the side of my arm. “Alfred, you have to go after Bruce. Now!”

I refused. “What? No! You’ll be killed!”

The agent forcibly shoved me away from the scene and switched his pistol to lethal mode, bracing for the upcoming fight.

“And we’ll all be killed if someone doesn’t catch that lunatic. We know where he is now, and you know how to get to him. So go!”

“Blake, think about this--”

“--GO, GODDAMMIT!”

Fueled by a sense of self-preservation, I deeply hesitated in my decision to leave Blake alone before bolting from the massacre that was about to take place, making my heart feel heavy with guilt. 

Regardless of Blake’s capability to defend himself, I knew there was a very small chance he would survive, and I doubted any of the other agents would be able to rescue him in time. We weren’t exactly near the theater at the moment, and with every step I took, the stronger my urge to turn back became.

But we were beyond the point of no return now, and all that mattered was putting Lazarus down. 

As much as fighting against my own son pained me, Gotham deserved to have peace...and so did Bruce himself. This city had been at war for long enough.

It was time to end it.

~~~~~~~~~~

THE ROOF

Practically soaring up the stairwell, I slammed open the doors at the top and pulled out my hunting rifle, preparing myself for the giant leap coming ahead. I certainly didn’t envy Blake’s current position, but I highly doubted he would want to switch places either. 

Despite the buildings appearing to be close together, it turned out the agent was correct about their roofs being rather far apart, and frankly, I wasn’t so sure if I could make it. Not to mention, the shower of rain was going to make it quite a slippery jump, and one wrong move could bring me right back to the bottom with Blake.

Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself down as best I could and backed away from the edge, hoping to get a running start. I wasn’t exactly going to have a second chance at this if I failed, and somehow, the idea of plunging into the cement below only motivated me more. 

I clenched my fists out of determination. Well, here went nothing.

Sprinting towards the edge, a spark of strength surged within me and I found myself running faster than I ever had in decades. With how high I was off the ground and the collection of thundering, monstrous clouds surrounding me, it nearly felt like I was flying to the other side. For a moment...I actually enjoyed the thrill.

But that thrill was quickly substituted by anxiety when I finally landed and tumbled onto the surface, hastily rising to my feet. There were only mere meters separating me and Bruce now, and not too far away from him, I spotted the missiles themselves, ready to launch. The view up here was quite intimidating as well if I was being honest, and just by standing on this roof, it almost looked like we were on top of the world.

It was a lone arena in a sea of storms...just for me and Bruce.

“DON’T MOVE!” Bruce yelled, yanking one of the hostages into his grip. It was Luke, just as Blake suspected. 

The boy’s mother desperately shrieked from behind her gag in response and lurched forward, worried sick about her son’s safety as the child was dragged away.

Bruce aggressively pressed a pistol against his head. “I WILL KILL HIM!”

Tanya violently shook her head and sobbed, pleading for her captor to change his mind.

I had to be extra careful. Just by listening to Bruce’s voice, I could tell he was scared and unstable. 

No matter how deep he fell into madness, or how severely Lotus damaged his mind...that expression of fear would always be the same. It was the exact face I saw on him twenty years ago when he escaped Joe Chill, and the feeling had returned now that Bruce realized he was losing this war. This was going to be difficult.

“Bruce, please,” I negotiated, slowly approaching him. “I don’t want to hurt you. Put the gun down, and leave the boy alone. Let’s talk! You don’t have to do this!”

He laughed, though not in an amusing tone. “Now you want to talk? After all the havoc I’ve wreaked, and all the lives I’ve taken -- now is when you people finally decide to listen to me?! No...it’s too late for that. Gotham’s time in this world is DONE! These Agency pigs are going to wish they killed me when they had the chance, and the last thing they’ll ever see is a storm of fire raining onto the city! And if you can’t see why Gotham is a plague, then you’re part of the problem!”

Just before I could reply, Waller suddenly chimed through my earpiece.

“Alfred! Blake just told us what was going on. I don’t know what his status is at the moment, but I’m sending a squad to help you out, just hold on. In the meantime, keep Bruce distracted. Do NOT let him harm that little boy, and do whatever it takes to apprehend him. As for the missiles, we’ve disabled the drone’s signal, so focus entirely on the hostages. Do you hear me? Waller out.”

I remained silent in order to avoid alerting Bruce and simply continued trudging towards him, pretending as if no one just contacted me.

“I know you’re angry, Bruce,” I sympathized, “and I won’t deny you’ve been treated wrongly, but murdering these people isn’t going to solve your problems! If anything, it’ll only make your situation worse. The Agency will be harder on you, and my chances of helping you will dwindle. So please...just stand down. No one else needs to get hurt. Let us end this peacefully.”

Still, he refused.

“My problems can’t be solved,” Bruce corrected. “The damage that’s been done to me is irreparable. You’re trying to save a person that’s already dead! But even if Lazarus dies too, at least he’ll die knowing Gotham got what it deserved...and Bruce will finally be able to rest in peace. Just like he wanted from the start...”

I inched closer to him, cautious not to make any sudden movements.

“Bruce is not dead!” I insisted. “He’s still in there somewhere. I can see it in your eyes. If you were truly as mad as you say, you would’ve already shot me. But you haven’t...because you feel empathy. Because you still remember me, and because you don’t want to do it. You know that’s the truth, and it kills you that you can’t deny it!”

Bruce’s Lazarus side started to resurface.

“Just shut up! All of you abandoned me when I was on my deathbed. You left me to rot! If it weren’t for Lotus, I’d be nothing but a frozen corpse in some morgue, destined to be forgotten forever! But now...” he spread out one of his arms, “the world will see Gotham for what it is. They’ll see the horrendous amount of corruption and greed this city was built upon, and they’ll thank me for turning it into ash! Bruce Wayne may be dead...but Lazarus will live on forever. I will never be forgotten.”

Just as I reached a reasonable distance from Bruce, I abruptly noticed one of Tiffany’s larger drones hovering in the air behind him, preparing to strike. Now was my chance.

Snapping my head in the drone’s direction, I purposely got Bruce to glance over his shoulder and used the opening as an opportunity to shoot the gun out of his hand, causing him to yelp in pain.

As planned, Luke promptly dropped free from his hold and crawled back to Tanya as the two of them shared a wordless but emotional reunion, waiting for the other agents to set them loose. 

Meanwhile, Tiffany controlled her drone to fire an array of bullets at Lazarus and sent him running all over the place, forcing the man to come closer to me. However, even with an injured hand, Bruce seemed to be in good shape and easily dodged all of Tiffany’s attacks, but I could tell he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. 

Merely from watching his movements, it was pretty clear that Bruce was growing increasingly fatigued, and without Bane to come help him this time, I wouldn’t have to do much to push him to his limit. I hurled myself at Bruce like there was no tomorrow and ignited a one-on-one fight between us, doing everything I possibly could in order to bring him down.

We threw punches until our knuckles turned red, slammed each other into the machinery on the roof, stained the puddles beneath us with blood, and gradually became more and more feral as the fight carried on.

Brawling with Bruce honestly felt like attacking a mirror. Every move he made, every judgement that flashed through his brain -- they were all the things I taught him as a boy when training him to become Batman. 

To see him using these techniques against me now...it was like sawing down a tree I planted.

The battle took a dramatic turn however, when Tiffany decided to help and shoot a nearby generator, leading it to explode and send Bruce reeling off the roof.

“Al!” He exclaimed out of instinct.

Bolting over to the boy, I saw that he had managed to grip onto the edge with a single hand, but it happened to be the one I shot mere moments ago. With the pain of his injury and the sleekness of the rain combined, he wasn’t going to be able to hold on long.

“Bruce!” I grunted out, bending over to help. 

But it was too late.

Just as I was about to grab his arm, Bruce’s hand gave in and he slipped out of reach, plunging down to an alley below. 

Without even giving a second thought, I immediately headed for the stairwell and hurried over to see if my son was okay, completely forgetting about the fight we just had. 

I desperately prayed that the fall didn’t kill him, but I also dreaded the weight of the decision coming up.

No parent deserved to go through this, and I wanted to scream at the world for forcing me into this situation...but now that I was finally here, I hoped I would make the right decision.

~~~~~~~~~~

CRIME ALLEY

Frantically running through the narrow streets, my heart pounded heavily in my chest as I searched for any sign of Bruce, blocking out everything else that was happening around me.

So far, I couldn’t hear anyone calling out for help and there was no corpse to confirm his death. All I was left with were a million unwanted memories, the horrifying rush of terror in my blood, and the sight of disturbingly familiar graffiti.

Just up the road stretching out in front of me, Monarch Theatre towered over the rest of the landscape like an architectural tombstone, and the further I travelled along the path, the more I seemed to reach into the past.

Oh my god...I recognized this place.

This...this was Park Row. 

This was where Thomas and Martha died.

This...was where Batman was born.

Glancing off to the side, I noticed a pair of limp legs dragging themselves into another alley as a trail of blood gushed out behind them, telling me where to go. The distant sound of someone wheezing in pain could be heard, and that was more than enough to lead me in the right direction.

Following the blood, I jogged around a corner and prepared my rifle, only to find Bruce himself crawling helplessly to safety. He viciously ripped off his bandana along the way and swallowed the cold air surrounding him, still unaware of my presence.

I limped towards him, softly calling his name.

“...Bruce...?”

If he heard me, he didn’t show it. Instead, the boy only stared blankly at the plaque embedded into the ground underneath him, unable to look away from the names it displayed.

Bruce slid an affectionate hand across the metal and sluggishly ran his fingers over his parents’ names, his voice trembling with distress.

“...In memory of Thomas and Martha Wayne...” he read weakly, “this...this is their legacy. A rusted piece of metal in a crime-ridden alley.”

He slowly turned to face me, otherwise motionless on the street. There was a clash of emotions in his gaze, and they all hit me at once. 

Rage, regret, hatred, loneliness...they were etched into his eyes like a carving. It was a message impossible to put into words.

“...Are you satisfied, Alfred?” Bruce reproached. “You’ve driven your own son to his grave, and destroyed everything the Waynes ever built.” 

He let out a cough, struggling to catch his breath, “...I-I always knew this road would lead to death’s doorstep, but I never imagined it would be quite this twisted.”

I sighed deeply in sorrow, attempting to reassure my son.

“Bruce--”

“--Don’t,” He fired back. “Just...don’t.”

Bruce finally moved the rest of his body and faced me completely, his arms quivering as they supported him.

“...I tried...so hard to make you proud. D-Did everything I could to become the man you wanted me to be. But I was always too deluded to...to see that I would never fill my father’s shoes. I was damaged too early. Too much. Just some leftover shrapnel from Joe Chill’s gun.”

He chuckled meekly and smiled at me, revealing how marred his skin had truly become.

“This...” he rubbed the plaque again, wiping the rain off it, “this is where I should’ve been all along. Without me, Gotham would’ve never become the mess it is today. Criminals would’ve never felt the need to rise up, Batman’s job would’ve been left to the police...and you...” Bruce gazed at the sky, “...you could’ve been free. But look at you. Two decades and whole lotta deaths later...and you’re still here. Right back at the beginning. It’s a cycle that will always end in death. One way...or another.

My throat began to tighten with the sensation of tears.

“...Why did you do it, Bruce?” I grieved. “Murdering all those people, destroying parts of the city, sacrificing your closest friends...why?”

He scoffed, causing him to go into a brief coughing fit.

“Did you -- did you think I’d just...forgive them? After everything they’d done?” He shook his head. “Bruce might’ve...but he was a fool. Lazarus, on the other hand, learns from his mistakes. And trying to save this city was the biggest, fucking one he ever made!”

Bruce’s shoulders slouched, and his eyelids drooped with exhaustion. 

Unlike before however, the madness in him seemed to vanish for a moment, and he looked at me with an expression that begged for clemency.

A single teardrop spilled onto his cheek. 

“...Please, Al. Don’t make the same mistake as the Agency. Don’t prolong the cycle. P-Put that rifle of yours to use...and just end it. Let me...let die in peace. I have nothing left to lose anyhow.”

Bruce fell completely silent after that and simply waited for me to do something, closely watching my every move as I steadily aimed the barrel at him, wanting nothing more than to throw the gun down.

Never in a million years did I think I would end up in a position like this. Holding my own son at gunpoint and contemplating what would happen to him for the rest of his life...one could’ve argued that I was in more pain than Bruce. 

Part of me considered walking away and allowing either Waller or Gordon to decide his fate instead, but this was my son. And I trusted his life in no one’s hands...except for my own.

“The choice is yours,” Bruce said, noticing my dilemma. “My story...will be tailored by you. And whether you decide to undo the tapestry or stitch it back together...I’ll be here. Just like I’ve always been.”


	17. Requiem: Kill Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it was taking forever to get these endings out at once, I decided I would release them one at a time so you guys wouldn’t have to wait too long. And I don’t wanna make my note super lengthy, but I just want you guys to know how great it’s been writing for all of you. You’ve given me an amazing amount of support since day one, and it makes me sad that this fic has already come to an end. I hope I can continue to entertain you with future stories, and thank you so much for reading my works. Please enjoy :)

From Alfred’s POV

CRIME ALLEY

This was it, I thought to myself.

Twenty years ago, Thomas and Martha Wayne were shot in this very same alley. 

And now...I had returned to finish off their son.

All of our memories, all of the bonds we created, all our time spent together...it was officially coming to an end. 

And it was all my fault.

This was it.

Raising the rifle to Bruce’s head, I found myself feeling weaker and more powerless than I ever had in my entire life. He was my son, for goodness’ sake. He was my only family left. How was I...how was I supposed to do this...?

Bringing his attention to the weapon, Bruce gave me a defeated but somehow approving expression and lowered his head, bracing himself for what was to come next. There was a strange sense of serenity radiating off the man, and the longer he sat there, the more I started to think this was what he wanted. 

Though, considering everything he just went through, it wasn’t surprising.

Bruce let out a weak chuckle and smiled, turning the infected side of his face away from me.

“...Ah,” he mumbled feebly, mustering whatever strength he had left. “The ultimate end. W-We all knew...this day would come...” Bruce coughed a few times, his hand still shaking from the pain, “...I just d-didn’t think...you’d be the one to deliver it.” 

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes once again, and every fiber in my being told me to put the gun down and walk away...but I knew this had to be done. As much as I hated to admit it, Bruce was right. Even with a viable cure, the damage dealt to him was never going to be truly repaired.

His life, his sanity, his future...all of it was destroyed back at Wayne Enterprises the minute Lotus poisoned his system, and it was my job to ensure no more were made. 

Bruce deserved peace. He deserved to rest.

Inching my finger over the trigger, I took a deep breath and glared at the boy with an amount of disparity I didn’t even know existed, and was almost sickened by my own actions. The look on Bruce’s face...it was the same face he made when he realized his parents were never going to wake up. The same face he made when I confessed his father’s crimes -- but there was also a layer of understanding to it.

Nothing in his expression asked me to stop, and the way he relaxed made it seem as if his prayers had finally been answered...like he had been waiting for this. I just wished God had sent someone else as his messenger.

“...I-I’m sorry, Bruce,” I apologized, trying hard to keep my voice steady. “...I wanted to save you.”

The man barely smiled and gazed at the rain puddles beneath him, staring back at the monster in his reflection. Bruce was clearly appalled by the image, and the longer he went without saying anything, the more I could practically see his memories flashing through his head.

His parents’ murders, the birth of Batman, our journey together as vigilantes, the Children of Arkham, the Pact, his growing love for John...and the inevitable collapse. 

The rise of Lotus, and the end of the Wayne name.

Bruce let out a breath of remorse and calmly shut his eyes, nearly falling limp due to exhaustion. 

One, final phrase escaped his lips, and his voice gradually faltered with every syllable, flickering like a dying candle.

“...You did.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Blake’s POV

THE NEXT DAWN

GCPD, ROOFTOP

Shock. Stillness. Heartbreak.

These were the new foundations of Gotham.

Contrary to what people expected, when the news announced Lazarus’ death the previous day, there were no cheers of joy or sighs of relief. Instead, the only reaction they got from the city...was pure silence.

No one knew what to make of the situation. No one knew how to respond.

It was like waking up from a nightmare and forgetting the whole thing before your eyes even opened. You knew the nightmare was over, and you didn’t even remember what it was about, but there was still this feeling of, “...did I really escape?”

Gotham had fallen into a state of disbelief. Even with multiple confirmations from dozens of different sources, civilians still had trouble comprehending the fact that Bruce Wayne...was actually gone. And I didn’t blame them.

Wayne destroyed so many of our lives. He killed those we loved, turned our city into rubble, and took away the person I cared about the most.

And yet...I couldn’t help but miss him. 

Without Bruce around, Gotham just didn’t feel right. It was like the world around us had gone quiet. There were no birds chirping, no cars honking, no distant chatter...

All I could hear was the lonely, hollow wind softly drifting by as it carried crumpled leaves with it, whistling past my ears. It was a sound of emptiness and loss, and it only seemed to enhance Bruce’s absence. Like being able to hear crickets chirping...but only because everything else had dropped dead. 

Reaching into my pocket, I slipped out a pack of cigarettes and stuck one in between my lips, attempting to take my mind off current events as I set the tip aflame. 

Despite our victory against Lazarus and the Joker, I couldn’t deny that this whole situation felt more like a defeat. Sure, Gotham was in a temporary moment of peace now, but the paranoia in me could do nothing but await the next tragedy.

With Bruce’s infection, Avesta’s death, and now Lazarus’ death combined, it only made me wonder how long we had until the Agency was needed again. Gotham was no stranger to chaos, and I just hoped my cigarette would be able to burn out before another incident occurred.

“Sneak away from the doctors already, huh?”

Glancing over my shoulder to see who had joined me, I spotted Tiffany strolling in my direction as she breathed in the fresh air, pausing for a second to appreciate the morning view as the sun slowly climbed the sky.

It didn’t take long for me to notice that the woman had changed out of her uniform and into a simple dress with a circuit board pattern, along with a dark cardigan resting on top.

“Morning, Tiffany,” I greeted, eyeing her outfit. “...You taking the day off or something?”

She hesitated, slightly turning away from me.

“Actually...I’m resigning.”

I quirked a brow. 

“Resigning?” I repeated. “You’re quitting the Agency?”

Tiffany crossed her arms. 

“I know it’s pretty abrupt, but ever since what happened with Lazarus and my family, I just don’t feel comfortable leaving them in Gotham on their own. The Agency’s always traveling, and there’s no guarantee I’ll be around for them if they need me. Besides, both my mom and Luke are in shock right now. I can’t just...go.”

I nodded in understanding and gave Tiffany a reassuring look, flicking some ash off the cigarette.

“If you think that’s best, then go for it. Your family is more important than anything the Agency does. I can’t deny that we’ll miss you if you go, but it’s your choice.”

She considered what I said for a moment before gazing at the view spread out in front of us, clearly torn about something as she bit her lip in concentration.

“...I guess my mom and Luke aren’t the only family I have,” Tiffany pondered. “There’s also Alfred who I have to keep an eye on. I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now. Being forced to kill his own son...” she trailed into silence, lowering her head in sorrow. “I mean, I’m glad that Bruce has finally been stopped, but I never thought it would end like this.”

I scoffed, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

“None of us did. Though, I doubt it’s any easier for you. I know you and Bruce were close.”

Tiffany stepped towards me and closed the distance between us, barely able to look me in the eye as grief spread across her face.

“...Things were hard enough after my dad died. I used to see his face in every corner -- every shadow -- at Wayne Enterprises, and now I’m gonna have to deal with Bruce being gone too. Frankly, I...I don’t know how that’s going to work.”

“Why not?” I asked. “You’ve been doing it all this time.”

She paused at that and stared at the floor in realization, allowing some of her sadness to roll off her shoulders.

“...I suppose you’re right. The real Bruce died a long time ago. Lazarus was just a monster masquerading as him. But still, it’ll be hard getting used to his absence now that he’s gone for good. As terrible as it sounds, part of me wishes he could come back like before...but I know that’ll never happen. Speaking of returning from the dead though...” Tiffany’s tone changed, “how did you survive? The reports say you got into a fight with Bane.”

I chuckled. “If I’m being honest, it was pure luck. Bane had me cornered towards the end, but at some point during our fight, a gun went off not too far away from us and it distracted the beast. I was able to use that as an opening. Without it, I’d most-likely be lying in the morgue next to Bruce by now.”

Tiffany beamed at me. “Well, I’m just glad you’re okay. I know how hard it’s been for you since the beginning, and you’ve proven to be one of the best agents on the force. Even if I won’t be joining the Agency from here on out, it’ll be comforting to know you’re still out there.”

I smirked in a playful manner. “This isn’t goodbye, Tiffany. With the amount of trouble Gotham gets itself into, I’m sure I’ll be back someday. Just promise you’ll take care of yourself in the meantime, okay? And Alfred as well. Both of you need to rest.”

She returned the smirk. “Only if you promise to do the same.”

I shrugged. “No guarantees...but I’ll do my best.”

Striding towards me, Tiffany’s mournful mood suddenly vanished and she pulled me into a brief but tight hug, burying her head in my chest.

“...Good luck, Blake,” Tiffany whispered. “And thank you for everything. You helped save my family. I won’t forget it.”

I hesitated for a bit, but eventually opened up and hugged the woman back, saying a quick goodbye to my friend.

“Thanks, Tiffany. You stay safe too, all right?”

She gazed up at me, grinning. “No guarantees, but I’ll do my best.”

Breaking the hug, Tiffany backed up a little and gestured to the rooftop’s stairwell, giving me an encouraging tilt of the head.

“Well, go on, hero,” she teased. “The Agency needs you. And so does Waller.”

Squishing the cigarette underneath my shoe, I let out a soft laugh and turned around, heading for the exit. 

“Not that she’d ever admit it. I’ll, ah...I’ll see you soon, Tiff. It’s been one hell of a ride, working with you.”

Tiffany giggled. “Don’t expect it to get any calmer.”

I waved a parting hand, wandering back into the realm of the real world while she stayed behind, remaining just a little longer to watch the rest of the sunrise.

“Oh, believe me -- I won’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Waller’s POV

GCPD, COMMISSIONER’S OFFICE

Staring blankly at the file on my desk, I found myself to be speechless as a million thoughts clashed inside my mind, and I was left in a state of astonishment. 

If I was being perfectly honest, I expected to be dead before this document even reached my eyes...and yet, here we were.

“...Bruce Wayne,” I read aloud vehemently, furrowing my brow. “Status: deceased.”

Glancing upwards at my guest, I gaped at them in disbelief.

“You...killed him, Alfred? You shot Bruce?”

The butler nodded in melancholy.

“A moment I wish to never repeat in my life, but unfortunately...will never forget.”

I shook my head in a empathetic manner, gently shutting the file closed.

“I’m...so sorry. While I’m glad Lazarus -- I mean, Bruce -- won’t be able to harm Gotham any longer, I also wish you didn’t have to be the one to wield the axe. No parent should have to go through something like that.”

Alfred remained unwavering, but the way his expression tightened told me he was clearly in grief.

“...Well, it’s done,” he concluded. “Perhaps Gotham will finally be able to breathe now. For a while, at least.”

Solemnly adding Bruce’s file to the cabinet, I rose from my chair and strode across the office, standing in front of Alfred.

“Not just yet,” I corrected. “I’ve scheduled a city address later today. The civilians have been living off of nothing but rumors and whispers. I think it’s time we inform them what’s really going on. I know some are still skeptical about Lazarus’ death, after all. And also about the cure for Lotus.”

“A city address?” Alfred questioned. “I don’t mean to be a pessimist, but considering how your last address played out...”

I knew this was coming.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured. “This address won’t be given in public like last time. I’m actually planning to broadcast it straight from GCPD. That way, no innocent lives will be put at risk like before. And hopefully, we won’t be interrupted.”

Alfred seemed to approve. “A wise choice. Too many people were lost during Lazarus’ reign of terror, and I’m certain Gotham’s citizens will be pleased to hear some good news for a change.”

I chuckled. “Well, they better enjoy it while it lasts. Crime never sleeps in this city. And sometimes, it doesn’t even die. I just hope that goddamned virus doesn’t reanimate him again. Erm -- no offense.”

The butler didn’t appear bothered at all.

“None taken. As much as it pains me to say, I think it’s best that Bruce is...well,” his voice withered, “...gone. To throw him in Arkham would’ve only put him through more suffering, and the idea of curing him terrified me. Who knows hows dire the mental impact of restoring his sanity could’ve been? To become aware of all the things he’d done, all the crimes he’d committed, all the lives he’d stolen...he would’ve been stricken with guilt. No. Bruce deserved peace. And so did Gotham.”

I didn’t push the subject further. “Well, the Agency can’t thank you enough for your help. You saved a lot of people with your actions, Alfred. Tiffany’s family is safe because of you, and so is Agent Blake. I’m sure Bruce would’ve been proud.”

“Thank you, Waller. That’s very kind of you.”

I beamed warmly at the man. “Well, what do you say we get this address out? I think we’ve kept Gotham’s citizens in suspense for long enough, and I know my people are itching to put this case to rest.”

Alfred straightened his posture, and a sense of determination glinted in his firm eyes.

“Ready whenever you are, Director.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Leland’s POV

ARKHAM ASYLUM

“In just a few minutes here,” the news reported, “Director Amanda Waller will deliver a city-wide speech to Gotham and address the events that have happened in recent times: The supposed newfound cure for Lotus, John Doe’s capture and imprisonment, and, most importantly, Bruce Wayne’s death. Members of the GCPD will also be present during this address, and for security reasons, it will not be delivered in public like before. In related news...”

As the anchor carried on, people in the asylum began murmuring to themselves in hushed tones -- doctors and patients alike -- and scoffed at the idea that Lazarus could’ve actually been taken down. 

Even though the patients didn’t get much chance to go outside, they were still able to hear all about the former CEO’s murderous rampages throughout the city, and how they intensified with every attack. Sometimes, I’d even hear them asking each other if they thought Lazarus would strike the asylum next.

If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said some of them were scared of Bruce.

“So what d’you think, Doc?” One of the orderlies asked me, casually leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. “Is Wayne truly gone? Or do you think he’ll come back to life again?”

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. 

“I doubt he was even dead in the first place,” I admitted. “It was most-likely just a side effect of Lotus. Some strange method the virus uses to shield your pulse. And normally I wouldn’t be one to speculate, but it certainly is troubling when a body goes crawling out the morgue. It makes you wonder if Wayne will do it again in the future. I’m hoping the Agency won’t allow it to happen.”

The orderly shrugged. “If they caught him once, they can do it again. But I digress. What’re you doin’ now?”

I took a clipboard in hand along with a pen.

“Getting ready to visit John Doe,” I answered. “Even though he’s been here for a while, I’d still like to do a more thorough examination. He and I are, should we say, acquaintances...believe it or not. Speaking of which, have you seen Adam? I was hoping to bring some muscle along in case Doe tried anything violent. He’s not exactly stable, after all.”

The man shook his head. “Nope. Haven’t heard from him either. Maybe he’s sick or something, but I’d be glad to take his place.”

“Well, thank you. I’d appreciate that. Shall we go now?”

The orderly lightly pushed himself off the wall.

“Right behind you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Venturing down the bland, dimly-lit corridors of the asylum, the orderly and I passed by multiple wooden doors as inmates bashed them from the inside, screaming at us to let them out through the small slots. Some of them even stuck their lanky arms out in an attempt to grab us, but failed regardless of how far they reached. It was the same corridor where I escorted Bruce himself...along with John in tow.

I mentally sighed out of sorrow, gazing at the dully decorated walls in a reminiscent manner. It felt like yesterday when Mr. Wayne arrived at the asylum for assaulting Cobblepot, and even though it wasn’t exactly a pleasant memory to look back on, I did cherish my time with Bruce. 

Despite his violent episodes while under the influence of Lady Arkham’s drug, I always knew that the man thrived off of compassion. According to many of Gotham’s locals, he carried the same “human touch” as his mother, and acted upon the same fire as Thomas.

Admittedly, it was a dangerous combination sometimes -- just as recent events had proved -- but it was also what made Bruce such a prominent citizen...and such a large crack in this city’s foundation, now that he was gone. 

To be honest, I wasn’t sure how Wayne Enterprises would ever recover from a setback as major as this, but if they could bounce back from Thomas’ death, I was certain they’d get back on their feet this time. I just wondered who would take Bruce’s place. No one who’d ever be quite as invigorating, that was for certain.

Finally arriving at John’s cell, the orderly and I stopped dead in our tracks when we noticed the door was slightly ajar. There was a thin sliver of light spanning across the tiled floor, and the closer we got, the stronger the thick stench of blood filled our nostrils.

Oh, god. What happened?

“You smell that, Doc?” The orderly asked, his face twisting with disgust.

I nodded ominously.

“I do. Keep your guard up.”

Cautiously approaching the loosened door, he waited for my signal before taking a quick glance inside and nearly freezing on the spot in terror, unsure of how to react. 

I gave him a questioning look.

“Well? What is it?”

He turned to me, the color entirely drained from his face. 

“...It’s...A-Adam.”

Swinging the door completely open with a loud creak, I roamed towards the center of the entryway and braced myself, only to end up staring at an extremely disturbing scene. 

Lying in a corner of the cell, I spotted the brutalized corpse of one of our orderlies, along with a messy trail of fresh blood leading straight to the opposite wall. There were obvious signs of a struggle -- such as broken furniture and weapons scattered on the floor -- and in the background, I could hear the haunting melody of a music box chiming in the empty space as it echoed throughout the room. 

As for John Doe, the man was nowhere to be seen.

I hesitantly stepped inside and read the disproportionate words that had been painted on the wall with blood as driblets leaked down its surface, staining the material.

“What do you see, Leland?” The orderly said from outside. 

I remained completely still, not daring to move and unable to speak through the shock as the bright red letters ingrained themselves into my mind:

LAZARUS WILL RETURN

~~~~~~~~~~

THE END

Thank you for reading Lotus.


	18. Redemption: Cure Ending

From Alfred’s POV

CRIME ALLEY

Gazing at Bruce in a sympathetic manner, I stood under the pouring rain as my rifle trembled in my grip, and I felt the weight of the world crushing my shoulders. 

I couldn’t quite tell if it was selfishness, or perhaps just the mere lack of courage...but something in me absolutely refused to kill Bruce, regardless of how much I told myself it was the right thing to do. 

Despite knowing everything he’d done this past week, I still saw him as my child...and that was how I’d forever see him, no matter the amount of crimes he committed. 

I didn’t plan to allow him to continue his rampages, or let him run free, but I definitely wasn’t going to shoot him either. There had been enough murder in this godforsaken alley, and nothing was going to convince me to continue that tradition. 

Death...was the last thing we needed right now.

“...No,” I finally said, shaking my head. “I won’t do it. I will not kill my son.”

Bruce fell silent for a moment and stared at me, clearly surprised by the decision. There was a strange hint of gratefulness in the way he looked at me, but also a tinge of disappointment. 

He let out a defeated sigh.

“...There’s a thin line between mercy and cowardice, Alfred,” Bruce scolded. “Someday...you’ll have to let me go. Whether you like it or not.”

I put my rifle away and steadily helped Bruce up from the soaked ground, immediately pulling him into a meaningful embrace once he was on his feet.

“Someday,” I acknowledged, tightening my arms around the boy. “But not today. You don’t deserve death, and you certainly don’t deserve Arkham. We have a cure for you, Bruce. We can bring you back. We can give you a second chance.”

Bruce didn’t say anything in response, but I could tell he was thankful by the way he relaxed his head on my shoulder, and gently shut his eyes. It was unclear whether or not he approved of my choice, and I couldn’t deny that some part of me felt guilty for what he was about to discover once he was cured, but nonetheless, I was just relieved that the conflict between us had finally come to an end.

I held my son even closer, neither of us letting go as Lazarus uttered one last phrase.

“The dead don’t come back, Alfred.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Tiffany’s POV

THE NEXT MORNING

GOTHAM GENERAL HOSPITAL

Navigating through the hospital’s corridors, I anxiously searched for Blake’s room as doctors scurried all over the place, frantically attending to the other patients who had also been injured the previous day.

Things had been stressful enough in the last few hours, what with Luke and my mother nearly being killed by Lazarus, and the city almost being destroyed...but now rumors were circling around that Blake was also on the brink of death. 

Apparently, the man received a number of severe injuries from his fight with Bane -- and even though the Agency was able to save him from the beast -- he still wasn’t looking too good, despite their efforts. 

Part of me reminded myself not to worry, considering I knew how strong Blake was...but at the same time, the thought of losing him terrified me. After all, this was the very same hospital where he and I witnessed Avesta’s life slip out of her grasp, and I wasn’t sure if I could go through that type of situation again.

With Alfred always being busy, Bruce losing his mind, Dad being gone, and Avesta getting killed...it felt like Blake was my only friend. The only person who I could go to for some peace and quiet. And now, he was knocking on death’s door as well.

I just prayed he didn’t disappear, too. Life was difficult enough trying to cope with all these other losses, and I didn’t know if I could handle one more life being dropped out of the world. 

Slowing down to a halt, I finally reached Blake’s room which was located at the very end of the corridor, right next to a pair of tall windows that displayed quite a magnificent view of Gotham. There were many more people rushing around the city than usual, probably because the threat of Lazarus was gone now, and the sight made me suddenly realize how lifeless this place had been over the past week.

I had gotten so used to walking around dead, empty streets, and passing by buildings that looked damn-near abandoned, that I’d actually forgotten what Gotham was supposed to look like. It just seemed so...strange to see this place functioning like other cities. 

But I guessed that was the price of working with the Agency, wasn’t it? My life would never be normal again, and neither would my family.

Taking a deep breath, I glanced at the bouquet of flowers in my hand and softly knocked on the door before walking through, only to find a half-dead Blake lying in a bed which had been neatly tucked in the center of the room. 

There were multiple tubes connected to him, including a heart monitor, and judging by the collection of cards and balloons resting on a nearby end table, I wasn’t the first to visit him today. I quietly approached him, trying not to alert the man.

“Blake?” I whispered. “Are you awake?”

The agent’s eyes sluggishly opened to a slit, and a faint smile spread across his face at the sight of me.

“...Hey, Tiff,” he mumbled, lifting his head slightly. “I’m surprised to see you here. Figured the rest of the Agency would--” he let out a series of light coughs, “--would be dealing with Wayne all morning.”

I took a seat next to the bed.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “You and Alfred rescued my family yesterday. The least I could do is pay you a visit. How do you feel?”

Blake chuckled, his laugh a bit strained. “About as bad as I look. Honestly, it’s...it’s a miracle Bane didn’t kill me straight away. I’m just glad he didn’t g-get anyone else.”

His gaze travelled to the flowers. 

“What’ve you got there?”

I shrugged, grinning at him. “Just a little something I brought along. But it looks like you have plenty of flowers already.”

“Well, no harm in having a few more.”

Reaching over to the end table, I added the bouquet to the already crowded surface as Blake watched me, clearly becoming weaker and weaker with every passing second. I gave him a concerned look.

“...Are you sure you’re okay, Blake?”

The man nodded. 

“...Yeah,” he croaked in a dismissive tone. “I’ve been through worse. Much worse. I’ll...I’ll be okay.”

Despite his optimistic temperament though, it was clear as day that Blake didn’t believe in what he was saying. His expression of content slowly disappeared like a lightbulb going out, and was replaced by the face of a man who knew his life was over. It wasn’t exactly melancholy or fear, or even regret, but rather...a sense of finality. 

The manner in which his eyes observed me -- it was his silent way of saying goodbye. He knew this would be the last time he’d ever get to see me, and so he savored every glimpse he got of the world around him, no matter how dull it was.

The folded cards, the vibrant flowers, the vast and sun-drenched view outside the window...he took it all in like a blind man experiencing sight for the first time. It was a moment I wished would never end, but also wished had never even started.

As if he could hear my thoughts, Blake suddenly brought his attention back to me and placed his hand over mine in an attempt to reassure me, just like Avesta did with him before she passed away.

“Tiffany,” he said at last, “the truth is...I’m not gonna make it.”

I frowned. “Don’t talk like that.”

The agent sighed. “Trust me, I’m not any happier about it than you are...but I’m not going to be here when that sun sets. I know it. I can...feel it. And I need someone to accept that, ‘cause these doctors certainly won’t.”

I leaned forward, looking Blake directly in the eye.

“And neither will I. You’re tough, Blake. You know that. When so many other people died this week, you were able to survive. You’re a fighter. So why give up now, when everything’s so close to getting back to normal?”

He didn’t appear convinced.

“Because that’s all my life is. Fighting. Just...one pointless battle after another. Death...around every corner.” 

He gazed out the window for a moment, listening to the sound of birds chirping as the sun gradually floated higher in the sky. 

“If I’m gonna die, I’d rather go out like this: in a setting of peace, surrounded by people I care about, and accompanied by my good friend.”

Blake turned to me, beaming in a fulfilled yet sorrowful way.

“Do me a solid and make sure Waller knows it’s not her fault, okay, Tiff? The Director can pretend she’s emotionless all she wants, but I know for a fact she’ll blame herself once I...once I...” his voice trailed off, diminishing with the morbid realization of what was to come in the near future, “...well, you know. Just tell her to not beat herself up about it. And you too, all right?”

I gently held Blake’s hand in return, reluctant to come to terms with the inevitable as tears began to gather.

“I...I don’t know what to do,” I confessed, my words slightly shaking. “There’s just so much happening...all at once. First my dad, then Bruce, then Iman, and now you? What am I supposed to do?”

Blake’s expression strengthened with fortitude, and for the first time in forever, he gave me a full smile, still gripping onto my hand as his eyes fluttered closed, and his heartbeat started to wither.

“Be strong,” he answered. “Your family’s going to need you after what they went through. And so is Bruce, now that he’s been cured. You’re all he has left, and god knows Gotham’s not going to support him anymore, so you need to stay strong. Not just for his sake, or for the sake of your family...but also for you.”

I considered what he said and stayed quiet in response, still unsure of how to react to the whole situation.

“Hey. Don’t worry about me,” he comforted, noticing my hesitation. “I’m on my way to see Avesta. This...this is what I’ve wanted all along. It’s going to be okay.”

He let his head sink into the pillow and glanced up at the ceiling, his hand falling limp as he took one final breath.

A permanent look of solace spread across his face.

“...It’s going...to be okay. I...I promise.”

With his last words out in the open, the heartbeat monitor suddenly emitted a dreadful, flat beep and broke the silence, sending me into a state of panic as I realized what just happened.

“...Blake?” I called out, softly shaking his body. “Blake, can you hear me? Blake!”

But it was too late. He was already gone.

Slinking back into my chair in defeat, I mournfully stared at the floor and remained frozen, crushed with grief and regret as the shock settled in. 

I couldn’t believe it. He was...dead. He was actually dead. Just like that...within the blink of an eye. And I was still here, the only person who’d ever carry the memory of Blake’s last moments in this world. It felt...surreal. Like a bad dream I couldn’t wake up from.

Blinking away the tears that clung onto my lashes, I rose from my seat and looked at Blake’s motionless body, my ears mindlessly blocking out the monitor’s beeping as the world effortlessly carried on outside.

“Goodbye, Blake,” I whispered, mostly to myself. “And thank you. For everything. I won’t forget you. I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Alfred’s POV

A COUPLE HOURS LATER

GCPD

Entering the police station with haste, I eagerly searched for Waller as I snaked my way through the crowds of people, focusing on one thing and one thing only: finding Bruce.

Mere moments ago, I received a phone call from the Director informing me that Bruce had officially been cured, and that Lotus was finally out of his system. According to Waller, the boy had next to no memory of the things he’d done, or what happened to Gotham, and the burden of explaining all these tragedies fell onto her.

While I was ecstatic Bruce was back to his old self, I certainly didn’t envy Waller’s position, and could only wonder how this would affect the man’s mental health now that he was aware of his crimes. The idea of having my son back both relieved and broke my heart at the same time, and I wanted nothing more than to see him in person.

As I navigated my way through the precinct however, a surprisingly familiar face stood in my way and greeted me, closing the distance between us before I could venture any further.

“Mr. Pennyworth,” he acknowledged. “It’s good to see you.”

I stopped in my tracks, shaking the man’s hand. 

“Commissioner Gordon? I thought you were in hospital.”

The policeman gestured to the cane supporting him, clearly still in some amount of pain.

“The doctors weren’t too thrilled about me leaving, lemme tell you. But considering how many of our people are injured or...even dead, it just didn’t feel right sitting in place, y’know? I had to be here, especially now that Bruce is cured. It’s my duty.”

I hopped onto the subject. “Speaking of which, you wouldn’t happen to know where Bruce is, would you? I’d like to see him.”

Gordon beckoned me, leading me down a certain corridor as he explained things along the way, limping slightly with each step.

“Of course. He’s in one of the holding cells, and awaiting trial. I think it’ll do some good if you talk to him. He’s...” Jim let out a despondent sigh, “...I’ll be honest. He’s not doing too well.”

I quirked a brow. “How so?”

Gordon slid a fatigued hand down his face.

“Things have been rough this morning. You see, we administered the cure to Bruce as soon as you brought him back last night, and he fell asleep once the drug started taking effect -- passed out for quite a while, actually. When he woke up though... and you’re not gonna believe this: he thought he was still in the lab.”

My eyes sprung open with surprise. “The lab? His memory is that far back?”

“Yup,” he confirmed, “but Bruce had a feeling something bad had happened, just like Montoya after she shot Falcone...” Gordon paused for a little after mentioning Renee, his shoulders slouching slightly with gloom. 

He cleared his throat and regained composure, carrying on the conversation as he picked up his pace a bit.

“Waller had to explain everything to him,” he continued. “Listed off all his crimes. All his charges. And then he saw me walk by, cane and everything, and immediately knew he was responsible. I’ve seen some broken men in my lifetime, Mr. Pennyworth, but none quite on Bruce’s level. The man’s destroying himself with guilt. Frankly, I’m not sure if the cure helped or hurt him.”

“Sounds like you disapprove.” I concluded.

“No, not at all,” Gordon corrected. “I’m actually the one who suggested curing Bruce to the Director. It’s just...difficult to see the aftermath. I know Bruce is truly a good man, but now he thinks he’s the devil himself. That’s why I think you should see him. Bruce needs to speak with someone he knows he can trust.”

“And I appreciate you allowing me to talk with him. Though, I’m not sure he might feel the same.”

Gordon pointed ahead and brought my attention to the holding cell he mentioned before, staying behind as I continued on.

“Well, you can ask him yourself. He’s right up there. But be careful. He may be cured, but he’s not quite himself just yet.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Commissioner.”

The man turned on his heel, preparing to take his leave.

“Don’t mention it. Oh, and stick to ‘Jim.”

Wobbling away to another section of the station, Gordon left me alone to deal with Bruce as I slowly approached the holding cells, barely able to contain myself when the boy himself came into view. 

Bruce was sitting on a small bench with his head lowered, and I could see him fiddling with his hands -- the type of behavior he always displayed when he was anxious or frightened. His clothes were rather disheveled, and the closer I got, the more I could hear him muttering to himself. 

Like Gordon said earlier, it was...rather hard to watch.

Stepping up to the bars, I straightened my suit and braced myself, completely unsure of how this meeting would go. After all, there was no telling how Bruce felt about me now, and I highly doubted it would be as easy communicating with him as before. There had been so much conflict between us, so many mixed emotions. Only lord knew how we were going to get back on track.

Folding my hands behind my back, I adjusted my glasses and cleared my throat, suddenly feeling a bit tentative to start this conversation.

“...Bruce?”

His head perked up at the sound of his name, revealing a pair of anguished, bloodshot eyes. He didn’t appear reassured in any way even though I was there, and it wasn’t too long before his head drooped again, hanging low like a dying flower.

“...You should’ve pulled the trigger,” Bruce condemned, his voice low and vehement. “You should’ve ended it. I don’t deserve to be here.”

Without even thinking, I tried to reach out to my son, only to remember the wall of bars separating us.

“Bruce...” I said, “it’s not your fault.”

That only seemed to anger him more.

“How can you say that?” He fired back. “All the people I’ve killed, all the lives I’ve ruined...this city is a living hell because of me. Dammit, why didn’t Avesta listen to me...? Why didn’t she just kill me like I asked...?”

“Because she wanted to save you.” I explained. Though, Bruce’s mind was difficult to sway.

“Well, I’m here,” he replied bluntly, unconvinced. “But at what cost? Avesta’s dead, the mayor’s dead, Montoya’s dead...and now, they’ve even just received word that Agent Blake has passed away as well. All of these innocent people are gone because of me...and you’re telling me it’s not my fault?”

“It’s not,” I reiterated. “The Lotus virus did these things to you. It turned you into ‘Lazarus.’ Your actions were not your own. I know you would never truly harm an innocent person...and you know it, too.”

But nothing I said seemed to console the boy. If anything, he only grew more dispirited, and I could practically see the motivation draining from him.

“It’s not just about the people I’ve killed,” Bruce admitted. “I’ve also been told that John’s rotting away in Arkham Asylum because I betrayed him. The one person who still loved me is right back where he started because of me.”

I paused. “John’s in love with you?”

“And the feeling’s mutual,” he confirmed. “Though, I doubt John holds any love for me anymore. I’ve ruined it. Just like everything else in my life. ”

“Bruce,” I said, gripping onto one of the bars, “your life isn’t over yet. In fact, your life was torn away from you, and that’s why I decided to give you the cure. Because I believe you deserve a second chance. Because I believe Batman isn’t dead.”

That got his attention.

Bruce’s mouth parted in astonishment, and a sense of atonement took over him.

“You think...I could still be Batman...?” He asked. “Even after all this?”

“Perhaps not in the exact same way,” I replied, “but there are still plenty of people in Gotham who need saving. Since Lazarus was the GCPD’s top priority for so long, other lesser-known criminals have flown under the radar and are still wreaking havoc across the city. What better way for you to make amends than to rescue the very people Lazarus once terrorized? If you could redeem yourself after the scandal about your father, I know you can pick yourself up after this, Bruce.”

As if on queue, a nearby television suddenly began to broadcast the breaking news as police officers rushed all over the station and Jack Ryder appeared on the screen, frantically rambling on about an incident involving none other...than the Joker himself.

“Well, folks, it seems like our moment of peace and quiet was short-lived, considering that Arkham Asylum is now in chaos since John Doe, also known as ‘The Joker,’ has broken free. Numerous injures have already been reported, including one casualty among the asylum’s staff, and according to witnesses, the perpetrator is heading straight for the city. He even left a disturbing recording on an officer’s body camera, baiting the vigilante who has been presumed dead for so long. Warning for the viewers out there: what you’re about to watch is extremely graphic.”

The news switched over to a dimly-lit video as the camera shook with John’s erratic steps, eventually reversing to film the man’s face. He was covered in splatters of fresh blood -- most likely from the casualty Ryder just mentioned -- and his signature cackle was the only thing that could be heard aside from the police sirens blaring in the distance.

John grinned widely at the camera, glaring at the audience in a feral manner. 

“Hey there, Batsy...!” He taunted in a singsong voice. “Miss me? Hehe! It’s been a long time since we last saw each other. Not a day goes by where I don’t reminisce about our fun times together. Oh, lemme tell you, things have been awfully dull in Arkham recently. None of the inmates are quite as fiery as you, and the fights I’ve had there pale in comparison to the rivalry between us.” 

His tone took a darker turn. “I know you’re out there watching this, Batman. Reveling in your freedom. A freedom that you stole from me! Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did, old pal. You led me to believe we were two threads in the same stitch...and for what? To stab me in the back later on?! Old habits die hard, I guess, huh?”

The camera zoomed in on his bloodied, wrinkled smirk. 

“Let’s face it. You and I will always be enemies. A guy like you...could never be friends with someone like me. Instead, you’ll always just be the dark, benevolent vigilante chasing me through the night...and I’ll be the knife in your side. Isn’t that right...buddy?”

A morbid chuckle escaped him.

“Well, you better come catch me quick. You thought Riddler was bad? Penguin? Lady Arkham? None of them knew you like I do. I know just how to press those buttons!”

He let out a hysterical laugh, waving a casual goodbye to the camera. 

“We are going to have so...much...fun! ‘Til next time, Batsy...! HAHAHA!”

The video cut off right away, leaving me and Bruce to our thoughts as even more cops bolted out of the station, eager to find the missing inmate whilst phones went off all over the precinct.

Meanwhile, something about Bruce seemed different ever since watching the recording. There was a newfound resolve surrounding him, and his brow was furrowed in determination as he stared at the front doors in thought. I would’ve recognized that face anywhere. 

His eyes wandered over to me.

“Alfred?” Bruce said, sounding significantly more adamant than before. I felt my heart grow with excitement.

“...Yes?”

“I need you to find Waller. Those officers aren’t taking Joker down alone, and god knows what he has planned for them. They’re going to get killed! They need help.”

I beamed at him, filled to the brim with confidence.

“Of course. I’ll find her right away.”

“Thank you, Alfred. For everything. I mean it.”

Walking off to search for the Director, I glanced behind my shoulder one last time and smiled proudly at Bruce, my emotions all over the place now that my son was finally back.

“You’re welcome...Batman.”

~~~~~~~~~~

THE END

Thank you for reading Lotus.


	19. Home Sweet Home: Arkham Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man yall. I still can’t believe that after this chapter, Lotus will officially be done. I'm kinda sad tbh lmao. I have considered possibly writing a sequel in the future, but it would take some time for me to get the plot and everything else together. For now, I hope you guys enjoy the third and final ending to this story, and as always, thanks for reading :)

From Alfred’s POV

CRIME ALLEY

Staring at the man sitting in front of me, I grew horrified and appalled by what Bruce had become as I slowly got tangled into my own thoughts, pondering the question of Lazarus’ fate.

This whole time, I had been tearing myself apart with guilt and regret for fighting my own son, only to realize at the very last minute...that Bruce was already dead. 

The real Bruce died way back when the Joker attacked Wayne Enterprises, and it took an entire week of endless fighting for me to see that. I had been so desperate and filled to the brim with false hope of rescuing my son, that I couldn’t even consider the idea that, perhaps...he was already beyond saving. 

But after witnessing Lazarus’ horrendous crimes here today: taking Tiffany’s family hostage, murdering innocent civilians, planning to destroy Gotham with missiles, and even attempting to kill me...I knew there was only one solution to this madness. 

That solution...was called Arkham Asylum.

Keeping the rifle aimed at Bruce, I cautiously approached the man as he studied my every move, devising some unknown plan within his corrupted mind.

“I won’t kill you,” I clarified. “Murder isn’t justice, and the last thing I want to do is shoot my own family. But you have to answer for what you’ve done. You have to face justice. You belong in Arkham.”

Bruce let out a dark chuckle in response and gave me an sinister grin, revealing the bloodied teeth behind his twisted lips as he sat upright.

“Home sweet home, eh?” He stumbled to his feet, struggling to support himself as blood continued to leak down his limbs. “...So be it.”

Despite having been defeated, there was still an unsettling aura of confidence radiating off of Bruce, and the fact that his surrender was silent only made me worry more. Usually, the man always had something to say before being dragged off to prison, but this time...it truly seemed like he had accepted his loss.

Bruce extended his arms out in front of him, holding his wrists in a position that told me he wanted to be handcuffed. 

He gave me a cold stare. 

“Funny, isn’t it? The padded palace that Thomas Wayne condemned so many souls to...will now cage his very own son. I wonder what he would’ve thought about all this.”

I secured a pair of cuffs around his wrists, shoving the man in front of me as we headed back to the police station.

“Thomas was far from a saint,” I said, “but he was still human. And more importantly, he was still your father. He would’ve been heartbroken if he saw us today.”

Bruce laughed at that, looking at me over his shoulder as he spoke.

“Humans are the most vulnerable to corruption, and my father was at its core. If I had taken his place on the night of the murder, you’d be slapping cuffs on him today instead.” Lazarus sighed morosely, glaring at the bronze plaque embedded in the street.

“Ah...but that’s the price you pay when you wage war against fate, isn’t it? You realize you can’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Waller’s POV

ONE HOUR LATER

GCPD

“Any updates on Alfred?” I asked. Agent Harrison gave me a concerned look.

“Nothing,” he replied. “None of us have heard from him since he confronted Lazarus on the top of that building.”

I dragged a hand down my face out of frustration.

“That old butler better be safe, otherwise there’ll be hell to pay when Lazarus returns.”

Harrison hesitated for a moment, clearly not confident in our success.

“...Ma’am, what if we don’t--”

“We will catch Wayne,” I reiterated. “We have to. All of Gotham is counting on us right now, and it’s our job to keep these people safe. Failure is something we can’t afford. Do I make myself clear?”

“...Yes, Director.”

“Good. Now let’s stay focused on the task at hand. What about Agent Blake? Have you heard from him?”

Harrison’s expression froze with remorse, and the sudden change in his tone told me something was dreadfully wrong. I paused.

“Is everything all right, agent?” I questioned. Again, he said no.

“...I’m sorry, Director, but Blake’s...dead. I...I thought you knew. He was beaten to death by Bane, and his body was located near Park Row not too long ago. As for Bane himself, the beast ran off after the attack. Our men are still trying to find--”

“Dammit!” I cursed, causing Harrison to jump slightly. “First, Avesta, then Montoya, and now Blake. This is why I say we have to capture Lazarus. Far too much blood has been spilled already. We can’t let this go on any longer.”

A third voice jumped in, bringing my attention to the door.

“And we won’t.”

Turning to see who had joined, Harrison and I were greeted by a rather roughed-up Alfred...along with Bruce Wayne himself in tow, restrained by a pair of handcuffs as he studied us with empty eyes and limped in front of the butler.

“Well, I’ll be damned...” I breathed out in disbelief. “...You actually got him.”

Alfred pushed the man forward, entering the office.

“Not among my proudest achievements, but hopefully Gotham will finally be safe now. At least, for a short while.”

I crossed my arms and glared at Bruce, eyeing him up and down as if I could scan him.

“...And what are we to do with the perpetrator? Have you made a decision?”

Alfred nodded grimly. “I have. He’s going to Arkham.”

I fell silent for a minute, somewhat surprised at the outcome.

“Arkham? I’ll admit, that’s not the decision I was expecting. But he is your son, and if you think that’s what’s best for him...”

“I do.”

Exchanging looks with Harrison, I gestured over to the phone before glancing back at Bruce, unable to tear my gaze away from his marred face.

“...Very well. Harrison, give the people at Arkham a call, would you? Let them know they’re getting a new arrival.” I glowered at Bruce. “And make sure they lock him up tight.”

Lazarus smiled wickedly and remained calm, obviously not threatened by his fate.

“Arkham couldn’t trap me before,” he recalled in a belittling tone. “What makes you think you’ll be safe now?”

I stepped up to Lazarus, grimacing at him as my brow furrowed in anger.

“I’m here.”

He snickered at that. “And I’m sure Agent Blake appreciates it. Enjoy the peace while it lasts, Waller. Lazarus will return...and just like before, you’re going to wish you had put a bullet in my brain when you had the chance.”

I scoffed. “Well, unlike you, I still have my humanity.”

Bruce turned on his heel and prepared to leave with Harrison as he was escorted out, the pair of them headed for the asylum. 

He gave me one last grin.

“And that’s why I’ll always be on top.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From John’s POV

THE NEXT DAY

ARKHAM ASYLUM

“...Despite the Agency’s victory against Lazarus yesterday, and the arrest of Bruce Wayne,” Jack Ryder said in a regretful tone, “Gotham is still in a state of mayhem. Reports suggest that the murderous luchador called ‘Bane’ has been sighted rampaging around the city, and there have already been numerous casualties -- including both police officers and civilians -- and the GCPD has yet to catch the culprit. It seems that when Gotham rids itself of one problem, another inevitably shows up.”

Jack pushed his glasses up his nose, gazing at the camera in a worried manner.

“I hate to constantly be the bearer of bad news, but I’m afraid Gotham’s days of chaos are far from over. Even when they’re teamed up, there’s only so much the Agency or the GCPD can do -- and I would advise everyone to be extremely cautious in the upcoming weeks. Lazarus may finally be behind bars -- thank God -- but peace...is still a distant dream for this city. In the end, all we can do is take it one day at a time.”

Giggling to myself at the news, I brought my doll close to my chest and snuggled with it in my chair, smiling widely in glee as the other inmates occupied themselves with the activities in the rec-room.

As always, Zsasz was destroying some poor soul at chess and being accused of mind-reading, Wesker and his, err...“pal” were minding their own business on a nearby couch, and the orderlies of the asylum lazily guarded the gates, bored to death by their maddening routines. 

So in other words, it was just another day.

Tidying up the doll’s hair, I held the toy in front of me and proudly examined it, admittedly still in love with the person it resembled.

“There you go, Brucie,” I said, patting him clean. “Spick and span, as usual. You’re always so handsome -- it’s nuts, really.” My tone grew darker. “I just wish the insides were as charming. Maybe I’ll spill them out for you...!”

Stopping myself before I could tear the doll apart, I took a calming breath and placed the doll next to me in a sitting position, suddenly feeling somewhat guilty as the other inmates stared at me in confusion.

I lowered my head in shame. 

“...I-I’m sorry, Brucie,” I apologized under my breath. “That outburst was uncalled for, but Doctor Leland says I have a hard time letting things go...and you really hurt me when you gave me up to the Agency. I thought we had something special, you and I. But maybe I wasn’t good enough. Or maybe I hurt you, too. After all, it is my fault you became Lazarus. I...I can’t deny that I miss Bruce Wayne. Things just aren’t the same without the billionaire playboy...y’know what I mean?”

Changing my mood within a matter of seconds, I picked the doll up again and chuckled at it joyously, shrugging in a dismissive way.

“But gee, what relationship doesn’t have its ups and downs? Sure, you’re a little rough sometimes, but I know you really love me. Or...have I been wrong this whole time? Maybe you’ve moved on. Maybe you’ve found another light. Meanwhile, I’m trapped in this asylum -- way back at the beginning. I guess Harley was right all along. A guy like you? You’d never be friends with a guy like me.”

Interrupting my thoughts, a strangely familiar shadow approached me from behind and completely tore my focus away from the doll, causing my chest to tighten with anxiety.

“...You don’t really believe that, do you, my dear?”

Hopping out of surprise, I whipped around in my chair and practically hid behind the piece of furniture as I observed my intruder, only to be greeted by someone I never thought I’d see again.

I peeked my head above the chair’s back, widening my eyes in shock.

“...B-Bruce?” I whimpered. “Is that you?”

The man towered over me like a predator and caused the entire room to fall silent with his mere presence, his damaged skin wrinkling as a freakish smile spread across his face.

He opened his arms in a “welcoming gesture” and prowled towards me, capturing all of the inmates’ wary attention. 

A morbid sense of pleasure glinted in his eyes.

“Well, who else could it be?” Lazarus answered simply. “Did you really think I’d leave you alone, John? I’m hurt you’d doubt me so easily. You know I love you...don’t you?”

Despite the anger I held for him, I found myself mindlessly rising from the chair and straight into his arms like a fish on a hook and embraced him, resting my head on his chest as everyone stared at us in bewilderment.

“You’re right, Bruce,” I conceded. “I’m sorry. It’s just, you really broke me when you threw me to the wolves...but I’m a forgiving guy, and I know I’ll always be your light outside of Arkham, no matter what. Isn’t that right? Buddy?”

“Of course.” Lazarus replied, pulling me closer. 

He leaned forward, whispering into my ear as he tightened his grasp possessively.

“...Too bad we’re on the inside.”


End file.
